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#the ​ballerina stage makeup is doing it for me here
dozydawn · 1 year
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“Prima ballerina Natalia Makarova speaks during a press conference following a dress rehearsal of La Bayadère, 1980.” Photographed by Jack Vartoogian.
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ilongfor-the-arts · 8 months
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Just read the museum marquis fic and I love it. I wonder what would a fanfic where the marquis de gramont met a ballerina reader?
Poetry in Motion
Pairing: Marquis de Gramont x fem! Reader
Warnings: mild language
Summary: A tall and handsome man has been watching you preform for a while. What will happen when he finally chooses to introduce himself?
Word Count: 2.5k
I got multiple reqs for this! So, here ya go! Enjoy!
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“You’re late Y/N!”
I dashed into the locker room, tossing my bag atop the dressing room counter.
“I know! I know! I’m really sorry! My apartment door wouldn’t lock and there was traffic and then-”
My director held up a hand, silencing me.
“I don’t care. Please-just, be ready to go by showtime.”
I nodded vigorously.
“Yes, yes, of course. I will be ready, I promise.”
She quickly turned on her heels and began walking in the opposite direction. Her blue dress swayed gently as the dancers rushed around her. Her spine was straight, her posture rigid.
I don’t blame her. I'm just as nervous as everyone else to see how this performance goes. Unfortunately, I'm a dancer, so rigid posture isn't ideal. I'm forced to keep my anxiety bottled up inside my head.
“Y/N.”
My friend called my name, jolting me from my trance. She was fully dressed, with a full face of makeup. She stared at me, completely stunned.
“Y/N, you better hurry! Everyone else is ready to go!”
I moved rapidly, quickly opening my makeup bag, praying I had enough time.
“What took you so long?”
I slapped my palms against the table, annoyed.
“Oh, Clara, it’s been such an aggravating day.”
I stared at my reflection, watching as the foundation completely coated my face.
“Do tell.”
I took out my eye makeup.
“Well, first my apartment wouldn’t lock.”
I closed one eye and applied eyeshadow as quickly as I could.
“My key wouldn’t work! And of course I couldn’t just leave my apartment unlocked so I had to bother my neighbor to get the spare key I gave her.”
I moved on to the other eye.
“Then there was so much traffic. Then I couldn’t find a good parking spot because I got here so late. Then I had to walk almost six blocks.”
My eye makeup looked... alright. Sure, if I had an extra hour, I could make it look fantastic. But, due to my unfortunate situation, I had to settle for average.
“Wow girl, that’s rough. I’m sorry.”
I pulled out my blush.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think that cute guy will be here tonight.”
I scoffed loudly.
“He’s always here. If he goes four days without seeing a ballet, just assume he’s dead.”
Oh my goodness, that blush color was really clashing with my eyeshadow. Shit! I didn't have time to remove it and start over. Perhaps I could just add another color to my eyes, creating a strange hybrid color that would blend well with the blush.
“I don’t know Y/N. I’ve been here longer than you, and he only started going regularly once you got here.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah, right. It’s probably just a coincidence. I doubt he’d spend a shit ton of money on fancy ballet tickets just to see some pretty girl dance.”
I watched Clara shrug from the corner of my eye.
“I dunno. He always dresses like he’s ready to meet the queen, and he sits in a box. He doesn’t seem short on funds. He definitely could be the type to buy ballet tickets just to admire you.”
Okay, the blush and eyeshadow looked fine. I could handle "fine." I could work with "fine.”
“I don’t know Clara. You know, when you watch a performance, faces and names blend together because there are so many people on stage. I doubt he picked me out of the crowd and decided I was going to become the object of his affection.”
I put on some red lipstick, trying not to be distracted by the fact that all the dancers I saw in the mirror were fully prepared.
“Besides, a handsome man like that?... he probably has a girlfriend.”
Clara perked up.
“Oh, so you admit you think he’s handsome.”
I rolled my eyes for a second time.
“I mean, come on Clara, look at him!”
Clara let out a loud and obnoxious laugh. My face turned hot. Thankfully, the makeup covered most of the natural pink that had begun to appear on my cheeks.
“Oh my God you have a little crush on him, don’t you!”
I held up my hands in defense.
“I am not having this conversation right now!”
I stood, rushing over to the costume rack.
“I’ve never seen him with a girl Y/N! I think he’s single and ready to mingle!”
Clara’s loud voice drew some attention. I swiveled on my heels and placed a finger to my lips.
“Sh!”
-
The show was finished, and the final bows were taken.
The roar of the crowd washed over me like a wave. I was moved to know that they were all applauding for this performance. As the entire company gathered for one final bow, I observed the crowd's faces contort into bright smiles. I felt moved knowing that at least one person in the audience was thinking about what a wonderful job I did tonight.
I hoped it was the man whose appearance I had grown accustomed to over the past few weeks.
The gold theater sparkled. The red seats gradually vanished as people rose to pay their respects to the performers.
I was unable to avoid glancing around at the various people in the crowd. I started in the box seats, hoping to spot a tall man with a penchant for fashion.
No luck.
My gaze was drawn to the floor seats. I scanned them all as quickly as I could. Maybe he sat closer? If he truly came to see me, it wouldn't hurt to get the best view possible in the front row.
No luck.
I'm not sure why I was so desperate for him to be here. Nonetheless, I felt my heart sink slightly as I considered the possibility that he missed tonight's performance.
We finished with a company bow. We waved goodbye, and quickly scattered off the stage.
“Y/N!”
Clara exclaimed as we walked back to the dressing rooms.
“You did so well! Jesus, I thought for sure you’d be all scattered from coming in late, but you really pulled it off well!”
I didn't notice her hands cutting through the air as she spoke. I didn't even bother looking at her. I kept my head down, stuffing various cosmetics into my black backpack.
“Thanks Clara.”
I said flatly.
“Alright, what’s going on? Who’s got you bummed?”
I grit my teeth.
“He’s not here tonight.”
Clara leaned in.
“What did you say?”
“I said he’s not here tonight!”
I snapped involuntarily. Clara retreated.
“Woah woah, how do you know this?”
“I didn’t see him in the crowd.”
Clara furrowed her brow.
“Come on Y/N, there’s thousands of people in that crowd! There’s no way you could’ve checked every seat for him!”
My lips were pursed. Clara wrapped her hands around my shoulders, soothing me. She leaned into my ear, lowering her voice to a whisper.
“I bet he showed up tonight. And if he didn’t, it was his loss entirely.”
-
The cold Paris air bit at my exposed skin. The chill penetrated my tank top, chilling me to the bone. I drew the sides of my peacoat together, attempting to conceal my torso and thighs from the wind.
I began to stroll, trying to enjoy the lovely Paris evening despite the fact that so much was less than ideal.
After about thirty paces, I was struck by an uneasy sense that someone was watching me. I initially ignored it. There were numerous high-rise apartment buildings. I'm sure that feeling came from being a window away from someone's living space, and the possibility that someone was watching me inadvertently.
I couldn't shake the feeling even after another thirty paces. The buildings in this particular neighborhood were completely dark. That is, everyone was sleeping, and if anyone was watching me, it probably would go unnoticed by bystanders.
I took a peek over my shoulder to ensure my intuition was correct.
About thirty feet behind me was a tall, lanky man in a black coat.
Alright, probably just a coincidence-
Wait.
I did a double take.
Holy shit.
It was the guy from the ballet!
This all is just one big coincidence.
I kept my head down, trying to maintain my composure.
His footsteps became audible. I focused on them, noticing that they were becoming slightly louder with every step.
Shit.
Shit!
God, this guy is a total creep! How could I be so stupid?!
I’m about to get totally kidnapped!
I started to move faster, trying to appear calm despite being aware that my heart was pounding in my ears. My blood rushed to my heart, leaving my face pale and cold.
God, he’s getting closer!
Jesus my stomach is in knots!
“Don’t look so frightened, darling.”
The man’s velvety accent pierced the air like a knife. My heart jumped.
I’m fucked.
“Really, I just want to talk with you.”
No way in hell was I stopping. My calves burned. My eyes were wide. My hands trembled within my pockets.
My chest came into contact with something solid. I stumbled back, looking up.
Oh my goodness, he was right in front of me.
How did he get there without me hearing?
The heat left my body.
I stood, wide eyed and perplexed.
The man's neutral gaze softened as he noticed my anxiety.
“I am very sorry to have frightened you, madame. I am simply a fan wishing to pay my respects.”
He placed a hand on his chest.
“I promise, I mean no harm. There is no reason to be frightened.”
He was considerably taller than me. In two seconds, he could pick me up and throw me into the back of a shady white van.
Nonetheless, his luxurious accent and courteous eyes made me believe he was telling the truth. So I allowed myself to relax ever so slightly.
“Did you come and see the show tonight?”
A smirk played on the corners of his lips.
“But of course. It would be foolish of me to disregard the opportunity to observe such talent.”
Wow, I'm going to give credit where credit is due. He’s a smooth talker. He speaks with such elegance. I'm unable to ignore his words. With bated breath, I await each sentence.
“Well, that is very kind of you to say.”
He slipped his hands into the pockets of his black overcoat, shrugging nonchalantly.
“I only convey the complete truth. In my lifetime, I have seen hundreds of ballets, operas, and plays. It is uncommon to find such a passion for the arts in the hearts of the prefromers. Few people allow creativity to encompass every aspect of them. But, I have noticed fire within you.”
He glanced deeply into my eyes, as if he wanted to capture some of the "fire" within me and preserve it for himself.
“I can tell by the way you dance and command the stage.”
The gentle breeze rustled the end of his overcoat as his pale eyes shone in the pale moonlight. He exuded a sense of mystery that beckoned me to embrace the unknown.
“Your blood runs red with creativity.”
He came to a halt, his piercing gaze catching my lips before darting back to my eyes.
“And, your beauty is unmatched.”
Forget about my face being cold; it was now scorching hot. I just hope I kept enough blush on my cheeks to hide the natural pink.
He extends his leg, the buckle of his pricey loafer catching the moonlight. He steps closer, the wonderful aroma of whiskey and bergamot wafting into my nose. The scent cloud muffles my brain, making me dizzy with anticipation.
“How long have you been dancing for?”
I raise my eyebrows.
“Oh, well, my entire life. I started the moment I could walk and I’ve pretty much been in the dance studio everyday since.”
The enigmatic man nodded, pleased with my response. I took my hands from my pockets, as they were sweating despite the chill.
“And… Do you enjoy it?”
I nodded vigorously.
“Yes, I remember, um-.”
I took a deep breath, careful not to trip over my words and reveal that my heart was racing.
“I remember my first official dance class. I was- about four or five.”
I swallowed, a lump forming in my throat.
“All the kids were complaining. I mean, y’know, at that age it basically is just an excuse for the parents to get their obnoxious kids out of the house.”
He chuckled.
Yes!
“But I never complained, not once. I loved it from the start. And, it’s completely consumed my life since then.”
He took another step forward. The distance between us was almost non-existent now. To meet his gaze, I had to almost completely crane my neck back.
“I can tell. You don’t just dance, you float over the stage. It really is beautiful to watch.”
His voice dropped to a sultry whisper.
“You are beautiful to watch.”
My stomach flipped.
My breath caught in my throat as he cupped my face with his hand. His grip was gentle, as if he were coddling a baby bird.
My mind was empty, a void waiting to be filled by him.
He exhaled deeply, a breath fanning over my face. I instinctively leaned into him, craving his warmth, craving his scent, craving…
Him.
He ran his calloused thumb along my cheekbone. My face was burning. I knew he could feel it beneath his palm.
He grinned.
“You have a very bright future in the arts. Paris is only the beginning.”
I could sense the tension rising. I was on the edge of my seat, waiting for something magnificent to unfold.
A hug?
A proclamation of love?
A kiss?
“I hope and pray that you will allow me to be an integral component of your bright future.”
He slipped something into my empty pocket sneakily. He smiled broadly. My heart skipped a beat. His smile was enticing, so simple yet so effective.
“Call me, Ma chère.”
He took a step back, turned, and began to stroll away. My shoulders loosened. My chest gave way. My cheeks had lost their warmth. The tension had been released.
I could breathe.
I could think.
“Wait!”
I shouted. He glanced over his shoulder.
His figure looked very intriguing. Most of his ridges and curves were hidden by his long coat. It enticed one to venture into uncharted territories.
“What’s your name?”
He scoffed.
“When you call, I will tell you.”
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blackopals-world · 4 months
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For my Art
Jamil Viper x fem Dancer!Yuu
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Venting from a former ballerina
The ballet was everything.
It is is your life.
Your reason to move.
To dance.
It will take your blood, your sweat, and your tears.
This is not a metaphor.
Yuu engraved these words in her heart from the moment her instructor said them to her at the age of 8. She had started later then her peers and had to catch up.
They had already started graduating to pionte shoes.
Those beautiful shoes.
Silk, pastel pink, the one thing that would make their fairytale ballerina dreams come true.
Now they were her's.
Now it was real.
She would be the next Primadonna. The star.
But heavy will be the head to wear that crown. The beautiful feathered headpiece.
She had to train harder.
She had to dance till her arms and legs bruised turning purple and red. That's what makeup is for.
She danced while her feet bled and ached. Her teacher told her it would make her stronger.
She would stand before the other girls and be weighed and measured. Her every imperfection was pointed out.
Because a ballerina was perfect.
Graceful
Delicate
Effortless
Gorgeous
Perfect
And she wanted to be perfect. Needed it.
She would do what it took. To achieve that dream. Break herself if needed. It was all for she sake of dancing on that stage.
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Another grueling practice ended as a guest arrived at the studio.
"Hey, Jamil. You're here early." She said wiping the sweat off very brow with a hand towel from her bag.
"I was hoping to see you practice since basketball practice ended early." Jamil said taking a drink from his water bottle.
Yuu smiled as she bent to take off her slippers, wincing due to her sore feet.
Jamil's eyes were drawn to the scene, his eyes widened.
Unmistakable red marks stained the shoes as Yuu sucked in a breath and dig into their bag for her first aid kit.
"You're hurt!" He exclaimed bending down to examine the wound. "What happened?".
"What do you mean?" she said tilting her head to the side. "It's normal."
"Nothing about this is normal. Your bleeding! Especially not from dancing. You need to take a break" Jamil said taking the bandages to wrap the wound.
Just a quickly he was shoved back as Yuu took the bandages back.
"I can do it myself." She said coldly "I've done this for years. Honestly, what do you know?"
"Enough to know that you're hurt and that's all I need to know," Jamil said strained.
"Butt out!"She yelled before stealing herself "Look I'm not mad at you but you don't get to tell me what I should do. You're not my father and you're not my boyfriend."
Jamil tried to respond feeling his cheeks burn but was stopped.
"You don't know what ballet even is. What it takes. Blood, sweat, and tears. I can't afford to waste time. It's a cut-throat world, Jamil. My form must be perfect!" Yuu said adamant.
"Why are you so set on this!" He yelled trying to find sense in this argument.
"BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE MUCH TIME LEFT!" Yuu screamed at the top of her lungs.
And just like that it was said. She fell silent her chest heaving, tears in her eyes, and her lips twisted in a frown.
"I...don't have time." She said again quieter. Sadder.
"Time for what." Jamil lowered his voice too.
"Ballet isn't forever. Girls don't last for long. You're prime is only a few years, and then the roles dry up. You're body changes as you get older. They don't want that. You're body doesn't last either." Yuu said sadly.
Ballet is a bloody industry and you must do what you must to survive.
It starts so innocent and pure. Little pink tutus and leotards to eating disorders and chronic pain.
But little girls still dream of the stage.
"So you'll break yourself to do it? Don't you care about yourself." Jamil asked taking her hand.
Yuu sighed and looked away. She couldn't look him in the eye.
"I don't know..." She said finally.
Yuu had never felt good enough. She never saw herself as worth much.
"It's okay, I'll show you that your more then you think. You matter to me. Even if you don't see your worth, I do." Jamil said hold her hand to his chest.
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heavyhitterheaux · 1 year
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Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You
A Ballerina's Tale Fic
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AN: Jack learns that love at first sight is definitely real
Synopsis: From the time Jack first spotted you at his concert on the Confetti tour, he just knew you were the one for him even if no one else believes it
Pairing: Jack Harlow x Dancer!Reader
A Ballerina's Tale Masterlist
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
You had just finished putting the final touches on your makeup when Camila came bouncing into your room smiling at you and took a seat on your bed.
"Are you going to tell me where we're going tonight yet?" You curiously asked before taking your bonnet off to do your hair.
"No, it's a surprise. I know that you've been working really hard and my best friend deserves to have something nice done for her since she's always doing things for everyone else around her."
"I just do what needs to be done." You said while shrugging before looking down at your outfit which consisted of a black mesh crop top, ripped boyfriend jeans, and black and white New Balance 550's.
"You don't give yourself enough credit and come on because we need to get there early if we want a good spot."
"A good spot for what?!"
"Nice try. Not telling." 
It was getting close to 6 pm and you were still confused on what was going on and Camila wasn't budging on telling you anything. And you were getting tired of standing in line. It wasn't until you kept seeing people in Jack Harlow merch that you finally caught on.
"Camila!?!?" You squealed and she just looked at you confused.
"What? What's wrong?"
"Is my surprise Jack Harlow?"
"Hmm, maybe."
"CAMILA!"
"Fine, yes! I made us leave early so we could get in the front."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!!" You said while tackling her in a hug and she quickly embraced you back.
"I saw where your future husband was going to be here so I immediately tried to hurry up and buy the tickets. It's the least I could do for you."
When the doors finally opened, the two of you made a beeline to the front of the barricade so that the two of you would be able to see and made a decision to go to the merch stand before the two of you left.
"Shit, I'm glad we left when we did since it helped us to be in the front of the line." Camila said while looking around as the two of you were now surrounded by an entire crowd of people.
"Yeah, that was smart."
"So, aren't you happy you called out of work tonight?"
"Definitely."
When Jack hit the stage, you were nothing but smiles and Camila was just happy that you could get a break even if it was only for one night.
This wasn't the first concert of his that you had been to, and knew that it wasn't going to be the last. It always took you an extended period of time in order to save up to go to concerts because of everything you had to pay for. You had to keep a roof over your head, your mother’s and your little brothers. It wasn’t the fact that you absolutely had to do that but you were going to make sure your brothers had everything that they needed. 
The two of you were dead center in the front row and you couldn't help but notice that it seemed like Jack kept looking at you and you could have sworn that he sent a wink your way.
Or maybe it was just your imagination.
You put the thought in the back of your mind, until Camila brought up your suspicions.
"He is most definitely staring at you and that wink he did was all for you too."
"Do you not see how many people are in here? Let's be serious Mila."
"I am being serious! Maybe it's because your boobs are sitting perfectly. I knew what I was doing when I picked out that shirt."
"Bye Mila." You just shook your head and rolled your eyes at her.
"What did I do!? I'm trying to help you marry your favorite rapper!"
"Once again, let's be serious. There is no way in hell that I have a chance with him."
"You always sell yourself short and you have no idea how amazing you actually are. You never know what the future holds."
Your suspicions were true and Jack was definitely staring at you the entire night. He made a note in the back of his mind to try and find you after the show ends and hopefully be able to talk to you.
What he didn't expect was who he assumed to be your best friend to whisk you away almost immediately and he lost sight of you.
He didn't know what it was, but he was immediately drawn to you. He swears when the two of you locked eyes, that was it for him and he wanted to know your name and get to know you better.
If it was meant to be, the two of you would cross paths again, and Jack couldn't wait for it to happen. 
There Jack was sitting with Drake in V.I.P.  at Magic City to celebrate Drake’s birthday when he spotted you walk in.
His jaw immediately hit the floor.
Your hair was a little bit longer, but there was no denying that you were the same girl that caught his eye when he first saw you at his concert.
Hearing Urban's voice quickly got him out of his trance. 
"What in the world are you staring at?" Urban asked his best friend since he had been distracted for the last fifteen minutes.
"That girl right there." Jack answered, nodding his head in your direction.
Pardon the way that I stare (The way that I stare)
There's nothing else to compare
The sight of you leaves me weak
There are no words left to speak (Words left to speak)
"Well, go get her." Urban replied while shrugging. Jack went and got any girl he wanted any other time so why should this time be any different?
"Hold on, I can get them to come to us." Drake said, grabbing the attention of one of the bottle girls and asked her to bring the two of you over to V.I.P.
Not even ten minutes later, you were following Camila into the V.I.P. area and she was all smiles while you just wanted to go home.
Until you made eye contact with him and his heart was doing backflips.
He waved you over to come and sit by him while of course Camila went straight to Drake.
"What's your name, pretty girl?" Jack asked while smiling at you.
"Y/N. And my best friend over there is Camila." Jack just knew that you could probably hear his heart about to burst out of his chest. Your voice was angelic and he couldn’t get enough of hearing it. 
"But I didn't ask about your best friend, I asked about you. You enjoying yourself?"
"I'll be honest. I kinda wanted to stay at home and watch Netflix, but she dragged me."
"I'm happy you came, otherwise we would have never met."
By Jack saying this, you instantly got a smile on your face.
"So tell me all about Y/N. You in school?"
"Nope."
"Okay what you do?"
"I'm a dancer and quick question, are you a cancer?"
"Hell nah. Where you dance at?"
"Blue Flame, that shit be jam packed."
"Damn facts? So where your man at?"
"What's that?" You asked before you started to laugh, giving Jack a dumbfounded look.
"I don't need a man, she my other half. We got something not a lot of others have and I feel like I knew her from the past. I mean at this point we're like lesbians." You said and laughed once again.
"Hmm, you sure about that? Look and see for yourself."
You looked over to see Camila all over Drake and he was loving every minute of it.
"Doesn't surprise me at all. She gets like that sometimes."
"What days you dance at Blue Flame?"
"Friday through Sunday with an occasional weekday thrown in there."
"I'll be here for a few weeks so I might have to take you up on that offer."
"I'll be sure to keep an eye out for you. And private dances are extra if you were wondering. Are you in Atlanta often?" You curiously asked and Jack simply nodded.
"That's fine. You're the only person I want to see anyway. And I definitely look at it like a second home."
You were usually shy so the fact that you were just having a conversation with your celebrity crush and not falling out was surprising.
"I think I caught on since I know that you've been eyeing me since I walked through the door."
"Damn, and here I was thinking I was being discreet." Jack replied while laughing.
"It's okay. I feel that you're someone who goes after what he wants." You said and Jack moved closer to you if that was even possible.
"And what do you think I want?" He whispered in your ear and you felt the floodgates opening up down below.
"Let's take a wild guess and say me."
You don't know where all of this confidence was coming from, but you were grateful for it.
The last thing you wanted to do was look like a fool in front of him.
Jack simply laughed before kissing the shell of your ear.
"I think we have a winner."
"Hmm so, why don't we leave and I can give you a little preview of a dance I've been working on."
Without a second thought, Jack was on his feet and held out his hand to help you up.
This caught Camila's attention.
"Damn, it actually looks like my bestie is living a little. Jack, you better take care of my girl."
"You definitely don't have to worry about that." 
You and Jack had been together for at least a month now when he was approached by Neelam one morning. She was shifting her weight back and forth and Jack was not paying her any attention. He figured if she had something to say then she would say it. 
"I… I don't want to get in your business." And there it is. 
"Then don't."
"But… a stripper? Really?"
"Why does everyone have a problem with what her profession is? It's not like she's out here having sex with the people she dances for."
"You don't know that, she's probably a gold digger who is going to hurt you in the end."
"Do you know how much money she makes in one night? Being a gold digger is at the very bottom of her list."
"Look, I'm just trying to protect you and a few other people agree with me. We just want the best for you and not to do anything to mess up your career. You've worked so hard for this and shouldn't let a girl ruin that."
"I can focus on my girl and my career and it's no one else's fucking business. I'm not going to stop seeing her just because a few people don't like it. None of you even know her and I haven't even brought her around. But I guess if all of you feel like this and don't care to see me happy then I won't. Judging someone and you don't even know her."
“Look, I don’t want to upset you.”
“Too late for that.”
“But Jack if you decide to go public with this girl, which you should most definitely NOT do, how do you think it’s going to look?”
“And why do I give a fuck? I mean seriously. I like her for her. She does what she has to do to make a living.”
“Your image, that's why! You’ll be making my job ten times harder.”
“Oh, so this is about you now?”
“Jack, that isn’t what I meant.” Neelam said while blowing out a defeated sigh. 
“Sounds like it. So I just have to go along with what everyone else wants me to do and not be happy?”
“No… I….”
“She is about to be here in thirty minutes and she’s excited to meet all of you. So I suggest you and whoever else has a problem with someone that they don’t even know get their shit together and be nice to her. Because if she tells me otherwise it’s going to be a problem. Don’t mess this up for me. This has been my most serious relationship since fucking high school. I will never forgive yall if yall fuck this up and run her off.”
“She’s a stripper, you can literally find one in every city!”
“We’re done with this conversation and I meant what I said.”
“Fine.”
Jack had invited you to come with him while he did a few festival shows and you were able to get off for two weeks in order to spend time with him. In order to be able to make sure all your bills were covered, you taught the little ones in the morning and had been at Blue Flame consistently every night for three weeks straight. You admit that you were nervous meeting everyone else because the only person that you had been around besides Jack was Urban. He quickly took to you once he saw how happy you made his best friend and didn’t judge you on what your profession was.
That was the main thing that you were scared of. You weren’t embarrassed and absolutely loved what you did, but when you told people when they asked what your profession was people tended to look down on you and that is the last thing you wanted from anyone on Jack’s team because you knew how important they all were to him and wanted to make a good impression. You couldn’t pursue your dreams of being a ballerina so this was the next best thing, you got to dance and pay your bills. 
You weren’t going to do this forever, just until you made enough in order to be able to open your own dance studio.
Then being an exotic dancer would be a thing of the past. 
It was early in the day and the festival wasn’t until about 4 in the afternoon, so Jack decided himself that he would go and get you from the airport and you couldn’t help but laugh at his”disguise” when you saw him. Or lack thereof.
“Baby, that’s not supposed to be a disguise is it?” You asked while looking at his sunglasses and hoodie that was attempting to cover his curls. You immediately let out a laugh.
“Look, this is all I had on short notice. I had to work with it.” He said while leaning down to kiss you before bringing you into a hug.
“Then let’s hurry up before someone actually spots you and then we’ll never be able to leave.”
You had now gotten back to the hotel, but before Jack could slide the key card in the door, you grabbed his arm to stop his movements and he looked at you concerned. 
“What’s wrong babe?”
“I.. what if they don’t like me?” You quietly asked while you were now more interested in your army green New Balance 580’s that were covering your feet. Jack’s heart dropped. 
He knew that you were an introvert and kept to yourself and he knew meeting new people sometimes
could set off your anxiety. He was actually surprised about how relaxed you were around Urban, but then again Urban had made you feel comfortable. He was nervous that the others wouldn’t.
They knew how protective they were over him and it was possible that this could turn into a dumpster fire.  
“They’re going to love you simply because you have made me the happiest that I’ve been in a long time. It’s going to be fine, okay? I’m going to let you get settled first and we’ll meet up with them later.” Jack responded as he leaned down to kiss your forehead which you gladly accepted.
“Okay, sure thing.”
You had taken a shower and gotten comfortable and was simply happy to be in the company of your boyfriend. It wasn’t ideal for you to go long stretches of time without seeing him, but you knew that his job was demanding. There was no way in the world that you would ever let him put you before his career. Jack didn’t let a day go by without calling you despite the time differences. He made it known every single day how important you were to him and you did the exact same thing.
You thanked Camila every day for dragging you to Drake’s birthday party because who knew that it would lead to this?
It was now around noon and Jack had told you earlier that the two of you would meet up with everyone else around one in order to be able to get food and for them to meet you before his show later. 
“Babe?” You asked, poking Jack’s side. He had his eyes closed and you were curled into him and you could tell he was tired.
“Hmm?”
“It’s 12, should we start getting ready?”
“No.”
“What, why?”
“Because I want to have you to myself for a few more minutes before I have to share you with everyone else.” You couldn’t help but to laugh.
“You have me for two weeks.”
“And that isn’t anywhere near long enough, so I have to soak in every second I can with you.”
“You are such a simp and I love it.”
“I’m just being honest. But I guess we can start getting ready.”
All of you were now sitting in a restaurant by the water and it was absolutely gorgeous. However, you were a ball of nerves no matter how much Jack and Urban tried to reassure you that everything would be fine. 
“Oh, so you’re Jack’s girl who we keep hearing about?”
“Yes, I’m Y/N, and I’m guessing your Ace? It’s nice to meet you.”
“Where did he meet you again?” Nemo asked while eyeing you.
“Drake’s birthday party in Atlanta awhile back.”
“Oh, were you like the entertainm….” Urban immediately nudged Neelam to get her to stop and not finish her sentence, but you caught it anyway.
“I’m sorry, what?” You asked, looking confused. This was going just as terrible as you thought it would. 
“She came with her best friend Camila and they were both with us in V.I.P.” Urban quickly chimed in, saving you from having to answer.
“How did they even get in the party and who in the world got them in V.I.P.? Wasn’t it an invitation-only type thing?” 2fo asked.
Just then you heard Jack’s voice behind you as he came back from the bathroom. 
“Because I saw her when she came in the door and asked the bottle girl to go and get her for me. Any more questions or are yall done being nosey?”
“We’re just trying to get to know her.”
You were now extremely uncomfortable and tried not to show it on your face as Jack sat down next to you.
I mean you did understand to a certain extent. They only wanted the best for him and that's fair. Just then you got a text and looked down to see that it was Urban.
Urban- We're all just extremely protective of him. They'll warm up to you soon.
You- If you say so, that felt like I committed a crime and was being questioned.
Urban- It’ll get better
“Okay, I’m just going to go ahead and say it since yall are too scared. What are your intentions Y/N? It’s obviously not money because strippers can make a lot of money, at least that’s what I’ve heard. He has worked entirely too hard for someone to just come in here and ruin his career.”
Your jaw was on the floor and Jack looked at Neelam with wide eyes as she was sitting directly across from the two of you.
“Wait, she’s a stripper?”
“At Blue Flame!”
“Oh, I love that place. I think they actually have better food than Magic City.”
“Lies you tell! They have nothing on Magic City’s buffalo wings.”
“What the? The lemon pepper ones?! Come on, now. Nothing is touching those.”
As Shloob and 2fo went back and forth debating on who had the best food between the two strip clubs, Jack was at his wits end. 
“NEELAM!” Jack exclaimed while Urban just hung his head from his place on the other side of you. 
“WHAT? DON’T NEELAM ME! I’m just being honest. Like you could literally have any girl you want and that’s what you settle for? I have to protect you and that’s what we all want to do. You can understand why that is right? We want the best for you so why can’t you see that? Y/N this is literally nothing against you, it isn’t.” 
“Nothing against me? It sure sounds like it is. Settle? You think that he’s settling with me? You don’t even know me. That was rude as hell of you to ask me and if you were wondering I have nothing but good intentions in this relationship not that it’s any of your business.” You said getting up from the table and Jack sighed before getting up to follow you.
“I asked yall to do this one got damn thing. Get to know her because she was excited to meet all of you and what did yall do? Fuck that up.” 
Later that night, the two of you were laying down in a comfortable silence and Jack knew that he had to be the one to break it. That of course upset you for the rest of the day and you couldn’t even truly enjoy his set like you wanted to because what Neelam said earlier was playing on a continuous loop in your head. You didn’t even bother making conversation with them as you were attempting to watch Jack perform and if someone asked you something, you kept the answer short and sweet.
It looks like you had thirteen more days to deal with this.
But if this relationship lasted long like you wanted it to, it would be a lot longer. 
At least you could hang around Urban since you knew he at least liked you.
You didn’t think that the others didn’t, it’s just that you knew that Jack’s image meant everything to him and that because of society’s standards, he would probably be facing a lot of backlash if this relationship were to go public.
You could see both sides, however, there is no room for judgment especially when they don’t even know you.
“Baby girl?”
“I told you that they wouldn’t like me.”
“That’s not it, they’re just protective of me. We’re like that with each other. Don’t get me wrong because I am not making excuses for them at all. What she said was outta pocket and she should have kept that to herself.”
“Can we just move on? I don’t want to even think about it anymore.”
Oh, pretty baby, don't let me down I pray
Oh, pretty baby, now that I found you, stay
The next seven months couldn’t have been a happier time for you and it seemed as if you were on cloud nine. You came to the conclusion that you only had to work at Blue Flame for another year or so until you would be able to purchase your dance studio and that doing this would be a thing of the past. You would still help out your mother and brothers whenever you could, but it was time for you to be able to focus on yourself. You hadn’t been able to do that since you were fourteen and it was long overdue.
You were definitely a lot closer to Jack’s team and even you and Neelam had made up when she saw that what you had said in the beginning turned out to be true with only having good intentions. You made sure to still keep a little distance between the two of you just in case, but you had a forgiving heart despite how people may act towards you.
You were confused as to why Jack had been ignoring you and dodging your calls. You had a difficult few days and needed to talk to your boyfriend, but he was nowhere to be found. 
The two of you did not go a day without talking to each other so you were definitely confused and needed an explanation as to why he was acting the way that he was. 
It wasn’t until you got this message that your entire world was crumbling right before your eyes.
Jack- Y/N, I didn’t want to do this over a text but, I have a lot of things going on and I feel as though we need to take a break from our relationship for a while.
You- Jack, where is this coming from? Did something happen? Let me know so I can fix it
Jack- I didn’t realize you did more than dance with your clients
You- What the hell is that supposed to mean? Baby, please explain because I don’t understand.
Jack- The fact that you thought you could be in a relationship with me and fuck other people is beyond me, so we’re done
You- Jack, I have no idea who told you that, but it isn’t true
You- Come on, don’t do this to us
You- Jack, please just call me so I can explain. I don’t understand why someone would tell you that because it isn’t true. 
You- Baby, please answer me
Tears immediately filled your eyes and you were beyond confused and you then realized that Jack had blocked your number.
Jack on the other hand was running his hands through his curls clearly frustrated at the situation before him.
You and Camila were close and he knew that the two of you knew each other like the back of your hands. So, why would she have a reason to lie to him about what you were doing behind his back?
He admits that you put up a good front and acted as if you had no idea what he was talking about, but the pictures that Camila attached? There was absolutely no denying that the girl in the pictures were you and that you got a little too close to your clients for Jack’s liking.
Urban could tell that something was bothering Jack, but he figured that it had to do with you when he hadn’t mentioned you in over a week. Which was never the case, because he could never shut up about you for a total of five minutes. 
“What is going on with you? And I thought Y/N was coming this week?”
“She cheated on me.”
At that moment, Neelam was passing by the two of them and couldn’t help but overhear what Jack had said.
“What?! I don’t believe that for a second.” Urban said clearly confused.
“Well, believe it. Camila told me.”
“Not going to lie, Camila has given me weird vibes ever since we met her. I get that’s her best friend, but I don’t know. Do you think that she might have been jealous of the two of you and trying to get you to break up with her?”
“No, they talk about each other like they’re legit soulmates. I never got a weird vibe from her.”
“I don’t know, Jack. This seems a little sketchy to me. I know I might not know Y/N as good as you do, but from my understanding, she wouldn’t cheat on you.”
All Jack did was simply shrug.
“I’ll talk to her.”
“No. I blocked her and I don’t want anything else to do with her. I guess it was too good to be true.”
Five days had passed and Jack was going through it. He would scroll through his phone looking at different pictures of the two of you for hours along with your text thread. He missed you and didn’t want to admit it to himself. But one thing he didn’t tolerate and wasn’t going to tolerate was cheating.
Just then his phone rang and he saw it was Camila.
He debated on answering her, but he figured at this point, he didn’t have anything left to lose since he had already lost his girlfriend.
“Hello?”
“Umm, Jack? Hey, it’s Camila.”
“What’s going on?”
“I… I have to tell you something and I… I know you’re going to be very mad at me.”
“Why would I be mad at you?”
“After I finish telling you this, you’ll see why.”
“I’m listening.”
“Y/N never cheated on you. I admit that I was jealous of her and that night I went down to Blue Flame and took pictures of her, but I also photoshopped them and sent them to you. I’m sorry, I know I’ve been a terrible person and a terrible friend to her. I saw how happy you two were and I.. I don’t know.”
All Jack could see was red.
“Jack, please say something. I’m so sorry. I’m just trying to make this right.”
“What… what could I possibly say to that?”
“I don’t know, but she overheard me talking about it and she kicked me out of our apartment and told me that she never wanted to see me again.”
“As she should have.”
“I know that she probably won’t forgive me and I know you probably won’t either, but I just had to tell you. Once again, I’m sorry.”
“I have to go.” Jack said and hung up without another word.
The first thing he did was unblock your number.
Now, how was he going to get you to talk to him and hopefully forgive him for how he treated you and cut you off without a second thought?
He immediately sent a text to Urban.
Jack- You were right
Urban- About?
Jack- Camila
Urban- What did she do?!
Jack- Lie and say that Y/N cheated on me when she didn’t. She admitted it.
Urban-I TOLD YOU I DIDN’T LIKE HER!
Jack- Now I know she probably isn’t even going to want to talk to me
Urban- You never know until you try
Jack- Like how fucked up is that and she had the nerve to call herself her best friend? What kind of shit is that?
Urban- Let’s just hope Y/N gives you the time of day. I told you from the beginning that what Camila said didn’t sound right. 
Jack wanted to be able to see you in person so that the two of you could talk about this, but every time he hovered over your number to call you he hesitated. He had been back in Atlanta for a day and a half and it looked as if fate had been on his side that day.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Jack recognized that voice anywhere and realized he had bumped into you. 
“Oh, hi.” You said finally making eye contact with him.
“Um, hey. Can we talk?”
“I really have to go, I….”
“Please, Y/N. I owe you an apology.”
“Jack, it’s fine, I’m fine.”
“No you aren’t and no it isn’t. Even though we were only together for eight months, I know when you’re lying to me. Just let me buy you that mocha cappuccino you like. It is Wednesday after all and you told me that you always get it after you teach your class.”
“Okay.” You quietly said as Jack followed behind you to one of your favorite hole in the wall coffee shops. 
The two of you sat down in the back corner and Jack slid your drink towards you before saying anything.
“Camila called me and told me what she did.”
“Oh.”
“Y/N… I know I should have asked you but those pictures she sent me looked so real and I just didn’t know what to think. She also told me the two of you obviously weren’t friends anymore because of what she did. I was falling in love with you and that shit hurt for me to see.”
“I’m surprised she actually confessed and you were?!.”
“She said she felt bad thinking about all that you had done for her and wanted to make it right, I guess. And I definitely was.”
“She can try to make it right all she wants, but I want nothing to do with her.”
“And that’s fair. But I want to apologize for doing that to you and acting that way towards you.” Jack said while grabbing your hand and he was honestly surprised that you didn’t pull back from him. 
“It’s just when I really needed you, you weren’t there. And I… didn’t know what to do. I confided in Camila and she was behind the entire thing.” You responded and Jack could see the tears building up in your eyes that were threatening to fall. 
“I want to make this right if you let me, and we can start over. I lost you once and I’d like for it to not happen again.”
All you did was sigh and Jack immediately became nervous.
He knew for a fact deep down that you were his soulmate ever since the two of you locked eyes at his concert.
“If someone ever says something to you about me, can you just ask me from now on instead of assuming?”
“I promise and I should have done that the first time. I’m going to make it up to you if you give me the chance.”
“Please don’t make me regret this.”
“I promise you won’t.”
“Good because otherwise my nana is going to kick your ass once she gets out of rehab.” You said while cracking a small smile. 
“Wait, what?!”
“I can’t wait for you to meet her.”
“And now I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be, she wants to meet the man who stole my heart.”
“Then just maybe I’m a little excited. I also wanted to bring up one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re going to audition for Julliard and you’re going to get in.”
It was around six in the morning and the sunlight was slowly creeping into the floor length windows. Jack had been awake for a while and was simply taking in the sight next to him.
His wife and his first born.
She was nestled between the two of you sleeping comfortably and Jack reached down to place a kiss on her forehead.
This movement caused you to stir and when you opened your eyes, you saw Jack staring at you.
“Do you always stare at me when I’m sleeping?” You asked as you closed your eyes once again.
“Ehh more or less. Can’t help it if my wife is gorgeous.”
You opened your eyes again and looked down between the two of you to see that L.O. was awake and smiling looking up at the both of you.
“Leticia, your daddy is a creep.”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
All she did was laugh and she looked between both of her parents as Jack reached over to place a kiss on your forehead too.
He then placed Leticia on his chest and she immediately cuddled into him. You looked over to see that he was deep in thought and was wondering what was going on since he got quiet all of a sudden.
“What are you thinking about?” You curiously asked while sitting up against the headboard and running a hand through his curls.
“How I knew when I first laid eyes on you that you would be my wife.”
You're just too good to be true
Can't take my eyes off you
You'd be like heaven to touch (Heaven to touch)
I wanna hold you so much (Hold you so much)
At long last, love has arrived
And I thank God I'm alive
You're just too good to be true
Can't take my eyes off you
Taglist:
@harlowsbby
@babyharleezy
@hoodharlow
@stefansalvatoresgf
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@yana4life
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@jacksmoviestar
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@midnight-star47
@minkookie95
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@babygirlwilly
@amethyst09
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@disaster-rose
@babyvinnie
@evansxchalamet
@chtkmyharlow​
@mortirolo
@itsyagirljaz
@neon-lights-and-glitter
122 notes · View notes
writingfortheheart · 3 months
Text
Counting to 30: Marcianna 2
Marcianna stood in front of the bathroom mirror, a pair of pins held in her mouth as she attempted to tie her hair up into a bun. "I think I..." she grabbed one of the pins and threaded it carefully through her hair. It never got any easier for her, even though she had done it a million times or more. Competition hair styles were so much worse than a simple bun, but at least she had help with those.
She slipped the second pin into her hair to secure it in place, then stopped to admire herself in the mirror. Plain black leotard, white tights, a lime green wrap draped over her shoulders. She looked the part, could she be the part? She gently slapped her cheeks to get a bit of color in them. Waste of makeup if she's not on stage, that's what every coach told her, just slap a bit of rouge into them.
A few springy steps into the hallway, Marcianna finally felt good. She slipped her polyester booties on over top of the leather ballet slippers she was already wearing. She almost wanted to lie down in her new bed, she felt cozy. There would be time for that later. Right now she had an appointment with the doctor before her first class. She grabbed her keycard and stuffed it into her bootie, folded up her requisition form, and headed out the door.
There were at least four other girls before Marcianna. None younger than 18, all sitting in the hallway outside Dr. Kirby's office, all dressed to go to their next class. Marcianna plopped herself down beside a thin, pale girl. She had sad eyes, or maybe it was just how thin she was, her eyes were sunken. She looked to be out of breath, and she was shaking a blue inhaler, almost out of habit it seemed like. After a good shake she raised the inhaler to her lips and took a puff.
A name got called and one of the girls stood up and went into the office. Marcianna looked over at the pale girl. "Are you doing okay?". The pale girl smiled. "Yeah, just a minor asthma attack. No big deal. I was coming here for my daily albuterol anyway, go figure".
"A ballerina with asthma. I guess it happens no matter who you are..." Marcianna wanted to laugh at the idea, but she had used an inhaler for a small part of her life. "They taste like crap, right?"
The pale girl started to chuckle. "Yeah, it depends on how fast you inhale".
"How serious is it?"
"Not too bad. I've only been hospitalized twice. Dr. Kirby keeps me in line now".
Another name is called, and the second girl gets up and goes into the office as the first girl leaves. "How long have you been at this academy?", Marcianna asked. The girl sat back and searched her thoughts. "3 years, I'm on a 5 year program. I have the option to do another three years after that, or I can join a ballet company, or I can just teach."
"Here?"
"Maybe, or I could start a dance studio of my own".
"That sounds like it would be lovely", Marcianna had dreams of teaching, as well, but not right away. She wanted to join one of the major dance companies, perform one of the big shows. "I have my sights set high..." she kind of muttered to herself.
The pale girl chuckled again, this one turning into a cough, then a wheeze as she got her breath back. "We all do. That's why we're here", she shook the inhaler again, put it between her lips, and took another puff.
The second girl exited the office door and Dr. Kirby poked his head out. "Trina?" he said. "That's me", said the pale girl. "Marcianna, you come in as well", said Dr. Kirby, "I won't be long with Trina here".
Marcianna stood up and followed Trina inside.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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thecorsairstardis · 2 months
Text
Show
Also on Ao3 here!
Mr Emporium's Toy Shop was magical, glowing red and gold in the otherwise dreary London street. Its windows were usually full to bursting with toys and games, teddies and xylophones, trains and dolls, all looking out and hoping to be bought. Children and adults alike crowded around, always looking for fresh joy and nostalgia. This time, however, all the toys and treats were gone, and in their place was something new.
In the window was a doll. A single doll the size and shape of a young woman, wearing a pretty - no, the prettiest dress, all lace and frills and ribbons. She was bent at the waist, arms dangling in front of her. Children pressed their noses to the glass for a closer look.
Then suddenly she was hoisted up to standing by the ribbons tied around her wrists. She smiled at her audience.
She did not have a choice.
Then a music box at her feet sprang into life, tinkling music able to be heard through the paned glass, and the doll began to dance. She took danced and she pranced and she twirled and she whirled, her arms and feet puppeted with the most perfect choreography. No matter how she moved, her strings never tangled. Whatever was controlling her - probably something mechanical - must've been a marvel.
Her audience did not see the man behind the curtain, towering taller than space inside the shop should allow, holding her controls and keeping them knot free; knots and tangles would have ruined the look, and he'd been so careful with it, tying the ribbons at her wrists and ankles himself, so they did not cut into her perfect skin.
The doll spun daintily on her toes, arms up high like a ballerina, and then she bowed low once, twice, three times to her captive audience. On the other side of the glass, they burst into enthusiastic applause. The doll's hands moved to her face, almost shy, then away again, as if blowing a kiss. Then she was being lifted up out of the window and the curtains were drawn to hide the stage until the next show.
Up in the impossible, swirling sky that stretched up into the shop and beyond, the doll's face was allowed to drop, and her smile vanished. Immediately tears filled her eyes.
"Please...please let me go," you said to the towering terror holding your controls.
"You don't like my game?" He tutted. "For shame, for shame."
"What do you want?" you sobbed. How could any of this be possible? You had never been so scared and confused in all your life.
And yet...
The Toymaker sighed. He bent low and set your feet on the floor of the shop and released your controls. All at once your body went limp, no longer able to support yourself with your strings gone slack. You crumpled, and braced yourself for the impact of the faux faint--
The Toymaker was there, his regular, human height once more, catching you with his arm at your back and his hand at your waist as if dipping you in a dance. Carefully he lowered you and him to the floor so you lay in his arms and his lap. He smoothed a hand over your hair. Your lip trembled.
"What are you?" you whispered. "Why are you doing this to me?"
The Toymaker gave you a patronising smile. "Because, Fraulein - it is fun!"
You sobbed and the Toymaker crooned, thumbing tears from under your eyes, and you knew without needing to see that neither your tears nor his gentle touch would have smeared the makeup he'd applied perfectly to your face. How his touches and attention could be so gentle, and his games so cruel you couldn't tell. You were so confused, you were so conflicted. This incredible, impossible man could be the death of you.
Or he could give you a life, loved and cherished beyond your wildest dreams. For he did love you, in a strange way. He treasured you, he adored you - his most precious doll. The thought thrilled you. The thought frightened you.
He continued to pet your hair, and despite the humiliation and the games, you tipped your head against his chest. You wondered if a heart beat within it.
Your eyes closed and you whispered, "Was I at least good?"
The Toymaker chuckled. "No, meine kleine Liebling," he cooned, "You vere perfekt."
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kick-a-droid · 2 years
Text
WIP Game!
thank you sm for the tag @lost-on-kamino :)))
Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have wips. (You can make your own post or reblog this one!) I have deemed that this isn’t just for writing either. Sketch titles? Comics? DnD campaigns? If you have an unfinished project, it counts!!
oh boy, most of my wips are in the idea stage, lmao, but here they are:
writing:
cereal - cody & rex
lean on me - cody & obi-wan
cold, dead dream - tavi's grandma & fox
no war AU - ventress & trinket
tavi during o66
rise and fall - cody
how blueshift gets his name - blueshift & fizz
blueshift, fizz, and o66
art:
face refs - fizz and blueshift
armor ref - blueshift
blueshift and fizz and makeup
ballerina!cody
plus sized fandom event - ahsoka
hand drawn pfps for a couple of my blogs
the night we met
combo:
intro posts for ocs - jal, norvu, blueshift, trinket, and tavi's grandma
no pressure tags! @thecodyagenda @ct-7567 @fooolisher @turtlepie and anyone who wants to do this :)
33 notes · View notes
sakurabutterflyart · 1 year
Text
(Before you guys COMMENT or JUDGE. Read the end letter to explain the misunderstandings or assumings about Nooshy and gender. Now, prepare to cringe!)
Titibo Tibo Songfic- Nooshy X Johnny
"Ever since elementary grade, they're already noticing.
My gestures are unlady-like 'coz…-"
A little lynx stared at the mirror with discontent, reluctantly wearing the dress.
She was wearing a ballerina's dress with her ballet shoes. Many people in the room "aww" of how adorable she was, cause she was the main character of the dance. She was that good for a little girl, to be a dancer.
But all she wanted was to get this over with. Cause much to her parents dismay, she wanted to quit. So it'll be her final show as a ballerina.
"Mom hurry up, I should be up the stage by now." She whined.
"Aww come on dear, just one more. This will be your last performance after all." Her mom said, who's actually just a white cat with her lynx husband by her side smiling at their daughter.
"Are you sure you're quitting sweetie? This is the best place to be, for girls your age." His dad asked, so sad that his only daughter is not really into it and still just like among her 4 older brothers.
"No I hate it here!" It's because it's too girly and I hated everyone here! The little girl thought, not daring to tell that to her parents cause she doesn't want to be mistaken to be a mean big tomboy. Although, she think she is.
She beautifully dance on stage. Not everyone knowing that this amazing ballet dancer is reluctantly doing it and ready to quit.
Nooshy just doesn't love it, unlike fellow girls her age. It was a dream to be surrounded by lots of dress, accessories and dolls. In her neighborhood's playground. Instead of chinese garter, her toys were trading cards and marbles. She loves everything her brother has, such as hoodies, shoes and even upbeat music that boys would like.
Then always jam with the guys near their place. To street dance and even do some stunts in breakdancing. She loves the way dancing release her wild side, how cool it is that she was able to dance faster in every beat and to look cool doing the hard stunts. It is way better than being a ballerina.
💚🖤💚🖤
When the little kitty is now a grown up lynx and entered high school. She was friends with bi's--curious girls, who also like girls. Instead of makeup kit, she brings a guitar. Cause back then there were no radios in their place but just instruments.Then she always wore long-sleeved T-shirt and faded pants.
The boyish dancer was expected by everyone to end up with a girl as well, until…-
She met the soon-to-be famous singer of the Redshore City, Johnny. Who later become her dance student and her #1 bestfriend.
People were shocked of how her flavor changed. She learned to fix and have her hair rebonded. She shaped her eyebrows at least once a month. She did all that, just to capture her bestfriend's attention. Even she herself don't know what it is that he have, that have her soften suddenly. Who would have thought that it will be a man, who'll capture a wild tiger like her.
Nooshy was in denial in her feelings at first. Then it keeps developing from bestfriend, a crush then to falling in love for real. To the point that she wants him to be for herself and she doesn't want to see him with other girls.
Even if she's boyish, her heart still beats for him.
But to her luck, he felt the same. Johnny invited her out to teach her how to skateboard. Then suddenly, the most gentle guy he knew just kissed her cheek out of nowhere. That one kiss from him, got her hooked and the woman in her is awakened.
She stared at him in disbelief.
"I like you Nooshy…" He responded.
The lynx felt a wave of emotions of confusion, shock… and mostly overwhelming in joy. But she burst into laughter, not believing what just happened. There's no way her crush just asked out someone like her.
"Are you kidding me? You do know what I am? Even if I am guy?" She pointed at herself. Her hair was boy cut, she wears her long jacket and her rip jeans, clearly showing that she did not considered herself to be a girl. Despite the make up she put on and her occasional dresses.
"Of course, Nooshy you have become more special to me. I like you just the way you are or what you will be. I know you're not into guys, but I can't stop thinking about you…" He hesitantly grabbed her hand. "May I go out with you?"
She felt her insides squeal in excitement, hiding it. There was silence between them, then she smiled widely, with a blush on her cheeks. "This is weird mate, but… I like you too. Sure, let's!"
💚🖤💚🖤
Time went on, their relationship keeps on growing stronger. When they went to college that's just when she gave him her sweet "yes" of being his girlfriend. That he have worked for 10 months, of doubts and confusion. Instead of chocolates and typical moves. Johnny avoided those cliche moves, that he captured her something he thinks it's true and that she would like. With his poems and songs, which she called corny. Which he also joked, that it somehow win her over.
Nooshy can't stop thinking about how lucky she is to have him. That it was a miracle, that she learned to wear heels and frequently wearing red dress. But to her comfort, he never wish her to change just to win him over. He accepted her as she is.
Just like a blooming flower, he cared for it with water and the right light of his everyday love. That makes her life sweet
Author's Note/ Disclaimer: (Just like the songwriter said, this DOESN'T apply to all tomboys, lesbians and bisexuals. It's just her story. While I'm not saying Nooshy is a tomboy. I'm honestly not sure, she seems one yet she still has a girly side with her make up and wearing pink. I've also noticed there are just girls who just loves boy stuffs and even loves wearing one. Even my friends or the people I'm surrounded with are like this, so I also based it here.
So this is just freewriting, since no one writes Jooshy fics. I'll write till my love for it runs out like my other ships.)
Song: Titibo-tibo Moira Dela Torre (I'll post the English translation tomorrow)
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fervency-if · 11 months
Note
This is fun! :)
Three of these interested me the most:
1. Does your OC have any scars, piercings, tattoos, or other markings? Do they display or cover them up at all? (any characters who have any markings.)
2. Does your OC wear makeup? How often? What kind? Why do they wear makeup, and do they like it? (Vesa loves makeup, what about the other ROs?)
3. What would your OC's alternate universe look be? Personally, I would like to know what ROs would wear and how would they style their hair if they lived in our modern times.
It is, isn't it! And you picked such fun questions - I do like that you picked several! Because the questions were so fun, it got long, so I will put it under a cut.
1) Let's start with something terrible here, as well as obvious if one knows what he is. Narciso has a scar, and I don't think I need to mention where that is. Now to more lighthearted matters... Francesco has a faint scar on his arm from where his cat scratched him before they had gotten to know one another well. He had to move her away from something and she didn't want anyone to lift her up, so she took it all out on this terrible man daring to carry her. Francesco has a pierced ear. He usually wears an earring that is a hanging, droplet-shaped pearl. He finds that very elegant. Both of Vesa's ears are pierced, and she likes big and bold earrings, the more shine and sparkle the better. At the moment, no character has a tattoo, but I would like to have a tattooed character in the future.
2) Regarding make-up on the non-Vesas; Bess wears it from time to time, mostly on more festive occasions. A little bit of dark, somewhat sparkly, eye shadow, some rouge, and some lipstick, if so. That's the only thing, along with her hair, that would be considered 'feminine' about her sense of style. She wears it for fun; she prefers feeling dashing and handsome, but sometimes she finds it fun to add a little 'pretty,' to the mix, too.
Narciso wears it for work, when he performs at the opera. He has a lot of stage make-up when he performs. He think it's fun, because he enjoys dressing up, and he feels quite handsome/pretty (depending on if he plays a handsome character or a pretty one) wearing it. It's annoying to wash off, though.
Aubrey would wear it if he dressed up as a fair maiden or some such to a masquerade. He would ask Bess to help him with this; he certainly wouldn't bother learning to do it himself.
3) This one is very fun, and required some thinking.
The Physician would still wear nice dresses, but they wouldn't be as eye-catching and fancy, because what she wears would pretty much be considered ball gowns today. She would love those little ballerina shoes, and wear them as soon as spring and summer came. She feels that perhaps they are a little too cutesy, but she wouldn't care; she would think that they looked neat and were very comfortable.
Aubrey would look at pictures of lounge wear of old, wishing that they were common today, too, since he wants the silk and the stylishness and the comfort. He would actively look for old-fashioned clothes similar to that, but it would be much trickier. He would prefer to dress in thin, loose trousers, he would often wear clothes that were slightly too large, and there would be something just a tad eccentric about his style - elegant in a sense, but a tad odd. He would still dress in slacks, nice shirts, and fancy waistcoats when he wanted to look extra nice and elegant. He would wear boots, for comfort, and because they tend to last long - he enjoys fashion, but shoes bore him. He probably would wear some jewelry now and then - skulls and such, of course, but delicate ones instead of those common 'tough' ones. Also, he definitely had a goth phase in his teens.
Vesa would buy clothes at second-hand stores/vintage stores all the time, never shopping at any fashion chains. She would dress similar to the way she does in canon, and would look for eccentric and fun clothes with feathers, sparkles, and so on. She would have the same haircut, but wear a lot of hairspray, either to puff her hair out, or to flatten it, depending on her mood. Sometimes she would dye it platinum blonde, red, or orange.
Narciso would wear similar clothes as he does, but somewhat more plain and casual; fine but quite regular shirts and slacks. He would only buy expensive clothes of the highest quality. I'm not at all sure what he would do with his hair; if he would wear it the same, wear it shorter, or have the same length but tied up more often.
I really want to answer this about Bess and Francesco, too, because that would be fun since they have such... specific styles, but my mind has drawn a blank. I will add them later on, because I won't be able to resist. In either case, Francesco would definitely sulk and feel that he was born in the wrong century.
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the-fiction-witch · 2 years
Text
Hello You
REAL LIFE COUPLE: TBS X READER RATING: SWEET
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I hurried my little feet through the busy London underground, I sipped my coffee and held my handbag tightly knowing the bustle and busyness of London can sometimes make you blind. I hopped on the tube taking a seat. As soon as I reached my usual stop I hurried away down the street I found the stage door
"Morning y/n"
"Morning Steve" I smiled hurrying into the backstage and went off to my dressing room, I put my bag on the counter and threw my reusable coffee cup on the table and set my kettle to boil to make my next coffee, I checked my clothing rail making sure all my costumes where there, I checked all my make up was where it should be, I got my dress off throwing it on the side and putting my little robe on and starting to take off my makeup doing my best to go over my songs, every so often cast mates popping in every so often to check on me. I heard a little tap on my door as I was working on putting my stage make-up on "Come in" I smiled
"Hello" I heard a familiar voice smile, as the door opened, I looked in my mirror seeing him there poking his head in my door
"Ooohh hello you" I laughed "come in"
"Thank you" He smiled slowly sneaking into my dressing room
"What are you doing here Thomas?"
"I came to visit the lovely lady in her show"
"Awww your too sweet" I smiled "I'd give you a cuddle and a kiss but I am making beautiful face night now and I also don't have on my dress yet"
"No worries, I brought you a present" he smiled revealing he had a large bouquet of roses
"For me?"
"For you, my lovely leading lady" he smiled handing them over
"awww Thomas, thank you" I smiled happily taking them "Don't I'll cry"
"Here I'll put them in the vase for you" he offered happily taking them back to put them in my little vase
"Your so sweet thank you, Thomas. how did they let you in the stage door?"
"the what now?"
"How did you get back here Thomas?"
"Oh. I just turned up and they let me in"
"really?"
"Yeah"
I grabbed my little walkie talkie unable to stop my giggles "Steve?"
"Yeah y/n?"
"did you let Thomas in the stage door?"
"Uhhh nope. haven't seen him"
"Thanks" I smiled "Lizzy?"
"Yep"
"did you let Thomas in the other stage door?"
"Uhhh nooo"
"thanks" I smiled turning it off "How did you get in?"
"I just walked to the theatre. walked in. and saw the stage and the set. followed the backstage signs found the backstage. and read your name on a board for the dressing rooms, and ta-da. Girlfriend"
"I love you so much" I giggled giving him a cuddle
"Awww Love you too" He smiled giving me a cuddle
"Sneaky boy, sneaking backstage to see me" I giggled "My own little phantom of the Oprea"
"I don't wanna be the phantom"
"Why not?"
"A horrific deformity, B living in sewers, C confirmed murderer, D and likely most damming he's like what... same age as the head ballerina lady, and Christine is what? eighteen maybe? and that's before you even go into his crazy possessiveness over a woman he taught to sing"
"I mean... your not wrong Thomas. he's not that possessive"
"He brings down a whole chandelier"
"you wouldn't bring down a chandelier for me?" I pout
"depends how expensive it was"
"He's not that bad"
"The whole of his verse in all I ask of you is my argument"
"True."
"May I lounge?"
"well know one knows you're here so yes just stick to the stage rules"
"I will little lady, you look really pretty" he laughs sitting on my sofa
"Aww thank you, you wanna wait in the wings and watch?"
"If I'm allowed"
"so long as you follow the rules yes."
"can I get to see how you do that outfit change?"
"No!" I giggled "Got to have some secrets."
"curtain in five minutes guys. Five Minutes"
"Ooohh! fuck! I need to outfit" I yelped grabbing my dress and making sure I looked fine "You coming?"
"I'll sit for the first scene and make you a coffee"
"Ummm you angel boy, Love you" I smiled cuddling him close trying not to ruin my make up and outfit
"Love you too" He laughs
"Bye-bye" I giggled giving him a kiss and grabbing my shoes and hurrying out my door
"Break a leg y/n!"
"know one in theatre really says that thomas!" I yelled back as I ran to stage
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Text
Ruined Seats
As I walk through the doors of the theatre, i'm taken back to when we walked through together. I was so excited to be sharing my favorite place in the world with you, Sharing my home with you. The gold sequins on my dress sparkle in the lights but tonight i am not on stage. I watch as my ballerina flats walk our familiar path to the last row of seats. The seats we sat in and watched in awe as we were told a story of fantastical heartbreak. We hooted and hollered for our friends’ wonderful performance. We took my favorite picture of us. Every space in this building is stained with you and i lost my Tide Pen. My favorite place in the world has been ruined by you. I can not walk these steps or sit in these chairs without hurting because of you. You've stolen everything from me, including my home.
On stage, the actors announce this season’s shows. I've been waiting for two months and i should be excited but i am only reminded of you. They announce Lion King and Grease but my eyes shine with tears because i won't be able to share them with you. A tear falls because i will never sit in these seats with you again. 
All i want to do is get out of here, to leave this memory to perish but i'm stopped by “hey, how are you”s and “are you auditioning for”s. Cant anyone see im hurting? Cant anyone see i've got to get out of here? I stumble in my flats as i miss the last stair and i rush into the lobby, i'm immediately surrounded by smiles and laughs. I've got to get out of here. I weave through people chatting happily about Company and Beauty and the Beast, but i can't breathe. Ive got to get out of here. I feel like the beast is holding my lungs in his hands. ive got to get out of here. You are holding my heart in your hands. Slamming into the front door, i finally breathe some fresh air. The breeze catches my dress and i feel it on my legs. The cool air of May calms my pulse. 
I have completely forgotten about the boy i came here with and i remember as he walks out the door looking relieved to have found me. I ditched him. I am embarrassed. I stare at my feet worried about what he thinks. He lifts my head with his hand under my chin and forces me to look in his eyes. They are full of compassion mixed with worry and i realized i've scared him. More tears spill over my cheeks as i fall into him. Of course he catches me, but i feel like my heart hit the ground. I've spent so much time hurting because of how low you left me that i've missed this boy trying to stand me up again, Trying to right me so i don't spill out all over the concrete. He continues to let me prick him with my thorns when all he's trying to do is take in the scent. I cry into his shirt and he lets me, not worried about how my makeup might ruin his flannel. I cry for you, i cry for me, i cry for us, i cry for this boy and he lets me. My whole body aches with the thought that this boy is full of love for me but i cannot give him my heart because it is broken into a hundred thousand pieces. A hundred thousand pieces is too many for one boy's hands. 
-e
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dorotharry · 3 years
Text
tiny dancer ; prologue
Pairing: 40s!bucky barnes x fem!reader
Next Chapter
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings: kinda long for a prologue, fluff, not really much but please let me know if anything in this upsets you. 
Summary: After being drafted for the war in 1942, Bucky goes to the ballet a week before having to leave with his best friend Steve. There he becomes infatuated you with the prima ballerina of the show, and he just has to meet you before his last week in Brooklyn is up. He hopes one day you would meet again; little does it know it will be 72 years later.
A/N: This is my first Bucky fic, I thought of it last night and I was kind of excited to write it. Sorry if any of the information is wrong as well my knowledge of Ballet and Brooklyn/NY are limited. I’m not sure if there are any similar story types but feel is so please let me know and I’ll tag them for people to read in the next chapter. I hope you enjoy :) Feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapter. 
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Before everything - 1942
“Oh, come on Steve, come to the Ballet with me!” Bucky spoke enthusiastically, his arms pressed again the frame of Steve’s front door. “It’s my last week before I go.”
“And you couldn’t have just chose to go to a bar like any other normal man would a week before going to the war?” Steve responded looking sceptically at his best friend. Someone who he had never known to be interested in ballet.
“Because going to a bar filled with soldiers would be a bright choice for you,” sighed Bucky, “I’d rather not have to get into another fight…” Steve rolled his eyes and pursed his lips waiting for Bucky to continue. “Everyone in New York is talking about the Ballet! Don’t you want to feel cultured?” Bucky exclaimed moving away from the door frame. “Plus!, I got us pretty good seats if I do say so myself, what row was it again…?” He trailed off looking smugly at Steve. “…Oh, that’s right! Row three.”
“Too bad you couldn’t score front row,” responded Steve mimicking Bucky’s cocky attitude. Bucky huffed at his friend’s response. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” laughed Steve, “Fine if the ballet is where you want to go a week before you go, then the ballet is where we’re going, I guess.”
Bucky’s eyes lit up at his friends’ words. “Yes! This is going to be great, a night on the town, just two gentlemen going to see the ballet.” He grinned, Steve noting how happy he seemed to be going to the ballet; he wasn’t sure why. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 6pm”, Bucky spoke turning away from his still sceptical best friend.
“Okay then,” responded Steve watching him walk off.
Just as he’d said, Bucky had picked Steve up the next day, driving them to the theatre and making it there for 6:30. They wandered the foyer looking at all of the people dressed up to watch the performance like them. Many had already been a few times and were raving about what they were most excited for again. For Bucky and Steve though, this is new territory. Both of them glad though that they were doing something new. They made their way into the theatre finding their seats, as everyone began to pile in, ready for the show.
“I’ve heard that the lead female ballet dancer is meant to be very good”, whispered Bucky to Steve as the lights began to dim.
“You mean the Prima Ballerina?” Whispered back Steve correcting him.
Bucky looked at Steve with an amused look. “For someone who didn’t want to come you sure know a lot about ballet”, chuckled Bucky placing his focus back towards the stage.
Steve sighed and looked back at him, “I don’t know a lot of ballet, that’s just common knowled—” He was shushed by Bucky as he tapped him on the shoulder multiple times in order to tell him to be quiet. Steve looked towards the stage again as the orchestra began playing.
Bucky watched as the curtains opened, the stage filled with ballet dancers.
Not long into the performance you would enter, nervous side stage as your friends reminded you of how brilliant you would be. This wasn’t your first time performing but every time was just as nerve-wracking as the last. This was your passion of course, and you wanted nothing more than to be perfect.  You looked down at your tutu, a bright red tutu, a colour that stood out amongst the rest of the cast who were dressed in whites and greens. Even the male lead was only dressed in white. You particularly like your pointe shoes the best; they were a stunning bright red to match the rest of your costume.
Shaken from your thoughts you heard the beginning of your entrance within the music, jumping up and down briefly before getting into position to enter. Then you did, getting into character instantly.
Bucky gasped as his eyes followed you as you entered the stage so gracefully. He had heard you were a magnificent dancer, but he didn’t know you were so beautiful. Composing himself in his seat he watched as you were so engrossed in the music and the dance. It was obvious you loved what you did.
As the ballet continued his eyes never lost focus from you. He even thought there was one time when you had looked at him in the audience, but he knew that couldn’t be true, someone so perfect would never draw their focus from their work to look at him.
Even during the interval Bucky was in his own world as he thought about how captivating you had been. Barely listening but nodding as Steve spoke to him about his thoughts of the show.
When the show finally ended the crowd stood up applauding the performance. Eagerly so did Bucky, Steve following. As you bowed many people threw roses and he mentally cursed himself for not bringing any himself. The curtains closed and the theatre lights slowly came back on.
“Well I must say I did enjoy that,” spoke Steve as they exited the theatre, breaking the silence and pulling Bucky from his thoughts, he stopped walked and looked at Steve.
“Steve, call me crazy but I have to meet her, I have to know her name.”
Steve looked at Bucky and sighed knowing he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Alright pal, why don’t we wait near the door the cast exit from?”
Bucky practically jumped up and down as he followed his friend, who somehow knew where the cast door was, although it wasn’t a hard guess. Just down the alleyway next to the theatre.
-     
After the performance, adrenaline was running through you like crazy. You loved this feeling. Tonight’s audience was marvellous, and they held nothing back when applauding you all for your performance.
When you performed you couldn’t see much of the audience due to the stage lights, but you could see up to around the 4th row. While you had stopped at the end one of your solos in the first act your eyes had briefly stumbled upon a very handsome man with brunette hair. But you didn’t get a great look because as soon as one song ended the next one started.
You had removed your costume and let your hair out of its bun brushing it out and attempting to make it look as presentable as you could. You got into a nice dress which you had arrived in, keeping your makeup on along with your bright red lipstick. Grabbing your bag, you said goodbye to your fellow colleagues as you exited the backstage area and entered the alleyway.
As you got to where the alleyway ended, and the city sidewalk started you were met with the same brunette you had noticed during the show. “Miss, I’m terribly sorry to bother you after your show but I just had to introduce myself to such a beautiful and talented woman.” Rambled Bucky.
You blushed and looked down as your dress, “Why thank you…” you trailed off waiting for the handsome stranger to tell you, his name. He seemed a bit distractedd looking at your eyes that he didn’t catch on though, causing his smaller blonde friend next to him to nudge him.
“Oh, sorry my names Bucky,” he replied letting out a nervous chuckle, “and this is Steve,” gesturing to his best friend.
Steve raised his arm to shake your hand, “Sorry miss but what was your name again? Bucky here forgot to tell me.”
You raised your arm and shook his hand, letting out a giggle over the two men in front of you, “My names y/n”.
You looked back over at Bucky who seemed to be going over something in his brain. “I wanted to know if you wanted to get a drink or some food or something with me?” What Bucky thought would be a confident question turned more into a rambling mess. Gosh he thought you were pretty.
You blushed, “How am I to know you’re not a murderer?” Raising an eyebrow at the nervous man in front of you.
Steve interjected this time, “I can confirm y/n, he’s not a murderer. Honestly, he’s usually a lot better at flirting than this, I’ve never seen him look so nervous.”
Bucky sent a death glare at Steve before looking back at you. You laughed again, grinning ear to ear, “Well I am pretty hungry, so I won’t say no, especially when a ladies’ man is so nervous to talk to me.” You smirked.
Now it was Bucky’s turn to grin, “great!” He responded. “I just have to drop Steve home and then we’re all set… Did you have a car?” He asked.
“Nope,” you spoke back, “so… do you think you’d be able to drop me home afterwards?” you asked, “You know considering I’m being so nice to a stranger.”
“I was going to offer anyway,” he replied signalling you to follow. You chatted with the two men as you walked to the car, when you got there, you insisted Steve sit in the front considering he was being dropped home. Then once you arrived at his, you both said your goodbyes to Steve. “I hope to see you again soon,” you yelled from the car as you sat in the front waving.
Steve waved back, as Bucky drove off to one of his favourite bars/restaurants beeping his horn at Steve as he left.
The rest of the night went smoothly, you both ate and chatted for hours, feeling like time barely existed with one another. It may sound cheesy but both of you felt like you were meant to meet one another. The only downside was that Bucky had told you he would be leaving for the war at the end of week, so you both knew it could never be anything more until at least the war ended.
It wasn’t until you realised the time that you knew you needed to get home, being Prima Ballerina wasn’t an easy job and it required getting at least some sleep. Bucky understood and drove you home continuing to talk about everything together. He even confessed he wished he had of gotten you some roses, to which you responded that how would he have known to do that. Of course, Bucky being a gentleman he still was disappointed he didn’t, even if you didn’t mind.
When you got home you thanked him for the wonderful night. “I’m going to see you again before I go,” he said from in the car, as you stood by the passenger window.
“I hoped you’d say that” you replied, “Good night Bucky,” you blew him a kiss, and his cheeks turned a bright pink.
“Goodnight y/n” he replied, grinning like a fool. He watched you walk into your apartment to make sure you got in safe before driving off. Gosh you were perfect.
-   
It was finally the day he left.
Just like he promised you did see him again. After each show through the week, he would bring you a rose. Each time making you blush.
Most days he just drove you home and you chatted in the car, but a couple of times you got dinner again and made the most of the time you had with your new friend. You wished he didn’t have to go; you wished every time you saw him you could kiss him. But that felt like it would complicate things, you hadn’t known him long enough to put yourself through that kind of heart ache.
You and Steve were at the train station saying goodbye to Bucky. It was hard for Steve, he wanted nothing more than to go with his best friend and fight for his country, but he couldn’t. They didn’t want him.
For you though, you had only known Bucky a week, you had grown so comfortable with him, so it was hard seeing him leave, not knowing if he’d come back. He knew more about you than some of your closest friends that you had known for years, he was just that kind of guy, someone you could trust.
Bucky wanted nothing more than to just grab you and kiss you, but he didn’t know if that’s what you wanted. Steve had told him the day before to just go for it, but he was unsure. He didn’t want to put you through the heart ache. As he picked up his bags, Steve gave him a giant hug, you stepped forward and did the same hoping you wouldn’t have to let him go.
Releasing each other from your embrace, you both looked into each other’s eyes. Your eyes filled with water, and you could tell Bucky was holding back tears.
“Goodbye Steve, goodbye y/n” he spoke sadly as he began to walk towards the train.
Steve looked at you as if to say, ‘are you sure you don’t want to just go for it?’ and you sighed. He was right, what was there to lose? Bugger this you thought, “Bucky!” you yelled running towards him, “You forgot something!” He turned around confused only to be greeted by you grabbing his face and softly yet hungrily pressing your lips to his. He sighed into the kiss dropping his bags, he didn’t push you away instead he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer. 
This kiss was nothing like any of the kisses you had experienced before, if fact it made you feel the same way ballet did. It was the same for Bucky, none of the kisses he had ever shared with anyone felt like this.
You finally stopped and parted, resting your foreheads on one another’s.  
“Don’t worry doll, I’ll see you again.” He spoke softly to you.
You stepped back as a few tears fell down your face, nodding. He gave you a charming Bucky smile before picking his bags back up and turning away. You walked back to Steve giving him a hug, as he watched his best friend leave him for the first time in his life.
You wanted nothing more than to believe that you would see each other again.
Little did you know you would, only 72 years later.
Chapter One (next chapter)
288 notes · View notes
hes-writer · 4 years
Text
Favourite (2)
Summary: harry loves one of his children less
Warnings: angst
Word Count: 1804 words
A/N: y’all know I’ve been feeling sensitive about posting this piece so if you have any comments BE NICE BE NICE BE NICE 🥺
Part 1
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The events from the previous weeks rattled the Styles’ household. Caleb woke to a tense morning the next morning where his dad was nowhere to be seen and Beatrice was holed up in her room. Dinner was even more awkward when silence draped over their backs like a cold blanket. Y/N tried her best to continue a dwindling conversation but there was only so much she could say until Beatrice’s silence towards Harry’s questions started to suggest that she didn’t want to speak to her dad. The youngest daughter, Ruby, seemed to be the holy grail of each family dinner when she babbled about her day in pre-school.
Beatrice was set to leave home in exactly two days. Y/N could feel a sense of pride seeing her eldest leave the family home, setting off to university and becoming her own person. Y/N knew that Beatrice had a difficult time separating Beatrice, Harry Styles’ daughter, to just Beatrice. Y/N looked back to when Beatrice was younger--an unexpected surprise that she learned to love when she felt the first symptoms of morning sickness--how she was bound to change her and Harry’s life forever. 
___
Y/N wasn’t sure if her brain blocked out the memories of Harry being hostile to their first child until recently; maybe it was a denial that there was no way Harry could blatantly show anything less than love for their child. But the more Y/N thought about Beatrice’s birthdays, recitals and school events; all she could see notice now was Harry’s distanced posture. His distraction when Beatrice performed on stage, the excuses when she had a dance recital, and unenthusiastic greeting of ‘happy birthday’. 
Harry leaned his shoulder against the door frame of the barren room, observing the bed and bedside table as it was stripped bare of the flower-printed sheets, watching his wife flip through the photo album filled with Beatrice’s accomplishments. The parents could not help but let a wave of nostalgia wash over them. The lamp on the bedside table lit the entire room. The fairy lights that were hung on her wall were taken down a few days ago; one of the items that Beatrice packed last. 
“She asked me to help her put the lights up,” Harry whispered, tracing his fingers over the cream walls, walking over to where Y/N sat on the mattress. “I told her I was busy and she did it by herself,”
Y/N sighed, lifting her head to direct Harry to the spot beside her, “I know,” She sunk with Harry’s weight at her side, his slouched shoulders further emphasizing his despondent mood. “We raised a good done, hm?”
Harry shook his head in disappointment, “No..not me,” His chest ached with missed opportunities to bond with his daughter; all because he couldn’t get over the fact that she came as a surprise. He was at the peak of his career and he wasn’t too glad that he was forced to push everything back--his album release, promo, and tour--to the next year all because of a child that he didn’t even plan on having in the first place. 
In retrospect, Harry should have known better. He should have reacted like a mature adult, a father-to-be and became an actual dad to Beatrice instead of holding a grudge to an innocent little baby. He still had a successful career that he always dreamed of but he can never turn back time for all the shortcomings he had with his child. 
Harry felt extremely guilty for missing Beatrice’s childhood, so he tried to compensate for the guilt looming over him by presenting his younger children the type of love that he failed to give her. How daft was he to not notice his actions would only push her away from him? That, to Beatrice, it was Harry’s way of highlighting the fact that he would never accept the way she was conceived? 
“What’s this?” Harry mused, tilting his jaw on where her hand rested to keep the page bookmarked. 
“Jus’ some pictures over the years. Wanna see?”
Here Harry was, flicking the glossy pages of an old photo album, looking at a dopey-smiled Beatrice on her first day of kindergarten. Her hair was in pigtails done by Harry that morning because Y/N had an early day at work. She was saddened that she couldn’t go but Harry reassured her that he will be there every step of the way. It was a half-lie. Harry dropped her off, took a quick picture and left the premises as soon as he could, missing the way his daughter’s eyes glazed over. Lips formed a pout and her tiny chin quivered as she watched her dad drive off in his black Range Rover.
The next photo was 7-year old Beatrice in her pink long sleeve and a wispy tutu wrapped around her waist. Her hair was pulled back in a ballerina bun; this time was done by Y/N if the slickness of her hairstyle was anything to go by. The left page was of Beatrice on the sidelines of the auditorium. The room was partially filled. Harry concluded that it was before the performance because of the dimple printed on her cheek since the right page showcased a sullen girl surrounded by her dance mates and their parents. Harry could remember Y/N’s frantic phone calls that night, asking ‘where are you?’ and ‘what time are you getting here?’ as the faint music blared through the speakers. 
Harry gulped at the memory. He came home to find Beatrice asleep in her costume, a plastic tiara gripped in her hand. Y/N said that she wanted to give it to him. Beatrice could at least give him something from her performance because he didn’t make it.
__
Y/N’s phone buzzed in her pocket, halting Harry’s thoughts as she answered the call. She pointed towards the door, mouthing silently that she had to answer it. “It’s Beatrice,”
Harry’s brows perched on his forehead, nervousness filled his body at the sound of her name. He didn’t even make things right before she left; too afraid of rejection when he deserved it. 
His fingers flicked through the pages. Beatrice’s piano recital. 
She was fourteen at that time. Caleb was sat on the seat next to him while Ruby was being nursed in Y/N’s arms. Beatrice peeked through the curtains, wanting to make sure that her dad was planted in his seat. She was excited to showcase the skills she learned in the past year. She was hoping to impress Harry in musical terms when she won first place. Beatrice was sure of it! She practiced for long hours until her fingers were stiff from overuse. Her other tries to catch her dad’s attention garnered her little-to-no attention and this was her last idea. 
Y/N gave her daughter a thumbs up as Beatrice walked towards the grand piano center stage. 
Beatrice was in the middle of her piece when she heard her Caleb’s curious voice over the silent crowd, “Dad, where are you going?”
She looked up just in time to catch Harry’s emotionless eyes. His expression was painted in annoyance and his phone was clutched in his hand. Beatrice’s fingers jittered with a shaky breath, feeling her fingertips trace over the wrong keys and eventually stopping altogether. The crowd gasped, murmurs flittering in and out of her ears as she stared at her lap. She tried to compose herself, maybe even pick up where she left off and continue playing as if she didn’t stop. The show must go on, right?
When Beatrice gathered enough courage to continue, she took a deep breath and lifted her head towards where her family sat. She was certain that her dad took his seat again but she could not be more wrong. Beatrice was just barely able to see Harry’s blazer flapping as the door closed shut behind him. 
__
“She ran off stage after that,” Caleb spoke from beside him. “Didn’t want mum around. She kept asking for you but you left or something,”
Harry closed his eyes tightly, tears dripping from the corners as he breathed out a sigh. He did. He left the building as soon as he could. The urgent phone call he received was from Jeff relaying that the media claimed to have found where his kids went to school. He couldn’t jeopardize their safety because of people wanting to meet him; because of him. There was no way he would let anything hurt his children. 
“I know I haven’t been the best dad to your sister,” Harry shut the book softly, wrapping his arm around Caleb’s broad shoulders. “But I really do love her,”
Caleb’s curls tickled his ears as he nodded, “She knows,”
Harry’s eyes widened in surprise, “Really?”
“Yeah. Before she left, she was talking about everything she was gonna miss. She said she was going to miss you, even if you, and I quote, ‘might not miss her’,” Caleb formed his fingers into bunny ears.
Harry desperately wished that he was brave enough to fix his mistakes. A simple, wholehearted talk with Beatrice might’ve been all he needed to start mending his relationship with her. But he stood back like a coward; hiding from his own daughter because of an irrational fear of rejection. Instead, he walked by her room, door left wide open as Beatrice gathered clothes from her closet to pack in the next box. Each time he would pass by the hallway to his and Y/N’s room, more of her items would be packed up, taped and ready to go. Packed boxes slowly filled the hallway and her closet emptied as her clothing was folded in an organized manner.
First, it was her desk. Her pens and notebooks leaving the cluttered space empty. Then, it was her hangers stripped off her dresses, jackets and coats. Her shoes were the next to go, leaving more space in the downstairs closet by the door until only one pair remained unpacked; the one she used to walk out of their house. Next, it was her dresser packed with moisturizers and makeup closed tightly to prevent spillage. Beatrice peeled off her duvet and bedsheets to wash the night before she left, opting to sleep next to Ruby on her final night at home. 
One image that he kept reeling in his head like a film projector was Beatrice climbing the metal steps of the ladder from the garage. She placed it sturdy on the floor before she stretched her hands to unhook the fairy lights from the wall. Unlike before where Beatrice knocked on his office door, hesitantly asking for help to put up the fairy lights--she didn’t ask for Harry’s help taking it down. 
___
A/N: I know that a lot of people might've wanted a full circle ending where Harry apologizes but I'm pretty happy with this ending because it's open-ended. 
___
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charincharge · 3 years
Note
for holiday prompts: "just open the damn present" and/or someone slips on some ice and the other conveniently catches them
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rowaelin high school bff au:  past-take masterlist
AN: Happy Holidays from these idiot best friends, who have pined through so many years of their life it’s almost hysterically funny to write. Here’s a 7th grade past-take for you. Thanks for being on this ride! xoxo.
Aelin struggled to catch her breath as she took her bow. Her pulse raced with excitement as the applause swirled around her, a raucous wave of noise congratulating her for her months of hard work, as she lowered her pointe-shoe clad foot behind her and curtseyed deeply. Opening night had gone amazing. She’d nailed every fouetté, every pirouette, every lift. She felt like she was floating on air.
Through the glare of the spotlight, she spotted her dad, whooping loudly as he leapt to his feet, and Rowan beside him, his hands clapping wildly. Her stomach flipped at the sight of her best friend’s smile, and she couldn’t help but return it as she walked back to the side of the stage, making way for the rest of the principals to take their bows.
She clapped dutifully as they finished their curtain call, trying not to rush too fast off stage as soon as the curtain dropped.
She barely paused to untie her pointe shoes and toss them in her ballet bag, swapping them for a pair of cozy socks. She was about to rush out the stage door in her costume when the company director tsked in her direction. She nodded her head in apology and removed her fancy dress, hanging it up in her cubby. As fast as she could, she put on her clothes, a pair of comfy leggings and a warm sweater, grabbed her things, and went in search of her dad and best friend. She hadn’t seen her friends in weeks. After getting cast as Clara, her entire life suddenly belonged to ballet, and she really missed seeing him. It was an incredible role, and she’d auditioned three years in a row to finally get it – but the more she danced, the more she realized that she missed the balance of her normal life. Missed spending time with Rowan.
“There’s my beautiful ballerina,” Rhoe said, pulling Aelin into his arms with no hesitation. Aelin grinned as her dad pressed a kiss to her heavily hairsprayed hair. “You were spectacular,” he said, handing her a giant bouquet of flowers.
“Thanks, Dad,” she said, her brightly colored cheeks heating as she spotted Rowan waiting beside her dad, his foot tapping rapidly as he looked her over. She tried to squash her blush, but it was nearly impossible with Rowan’s smiling face so close.
Having a crush on her best friend was super annoying. It’d been over a year since she realized she liked him, but each day got harder, not easier to deal with her feelings. She hated the way she was suddenly nervous around him, unsure if she was smiling too much or too little or laughing too hard or what her hair looked like; she’d never been self-conscious, but now she couldn’t help but wish that she’d washed her stage makeup off before seeing him. She must look crazy.
“Simply amazing, hon!” Aunt Maeve cooed, pulling Aelin into her arms, squeezing her tightly. “I had no idea you could dance like that,” she said, and Aelin nodded again, trying to keep her breathing even as Rowan finally stepped forward to hug her himself.  
“I knew,” A large smile appeared on his face as he stepped away, and Aelin could feel her stomach flip at the close contact between them.
“You weren’t bored?” Aelin asked, and Rowan shook his head emphatically side to side. “I know I barely danced for twenty minutes.”
“Not even close.”
Aelin beamed at her best friend, who had sat through the three-hour ballet, just to watch her perform on opening night. Ballet wasn’t exactly Rowan’s favorite, but it meant the world to her that they all came to watch her in her big starring role.
“Should we go back to the restaurant?” Maeve asked. “I have some peppermint brownies that need tasting…”
“Yes!” Aelin begged, her stomach growling with hunger. She had been so nervous before her performance that she’d forgone dinner, and new experimental baked goods from Maeve’s sounded perfect.
She shrugged on her coat, and as she lifted her ballet bag to her shoulder, Rowan reached out. “I’ll take that.” She narrowed her eyes at him, but he simply shrugged. “A star never carries her own bags,” he laughed.
“Thanks,” she laughed at his ridiculous offer.
Aelin felt him following her all the way back to the car, hovering just behind her. It was slightly unnerving. Now that she was coming down from her performance high, the only adrenaline pulsing in her system was from her best friend’s proximity. She knew it.
She tried to walk faster to escape the strange feeling of him being so close behind her, but in her efforts to put distance between them, she missed the patch of ice coating the parking lot, and her foot slipped out from beneath her.
Her yelp was cut short, her arms bracing herself for a fall that never came, as Rowan’s strong arms wrapped around her waist. She inhaled sharply as his hands slid up, helping her back to standing. All she could feel was her heart pounding wildly.
“Careful, Ace,” he chuckled softly, his eyes flicking to her legging-clad legs. “It’d be a real shame if you only got to dance opening night after all these months of practice.”
She nodded, attempting a smile as she righted herself and got into the car. She tried to ignore the way he slid in after her, shoving herself against the window as far as she could, trying to put some space between them in the cramped backseat of Maeve’s car.
They arrived at the restaurant quickly, and Aelin smiled as Maeve lit up the space, the twinkle lights on the tree in the corner and twisted around garlands brightening the place immediately.
“You two sit,” Aunt Maeve ordered. “I’ll heat up the brownies.” She pointed to Rhoe. “And for us, bourbon vanilla chai?”
Rhoe clapped loudly. “Now you’re speaking my language.”
As the adults scuttled around the kitchen, Aelin took a seat in the cozy armchair by the window. It was dark purple, and she sank right in happily. She expected Rowan to take the seat across from her immediately, but instead he held up a finger and said, “Wait here.”
He returned quickly with a small package, wrapped in red paper and tied with a white ribbon. Aelin blinked and then blinked again as he placed the box on the small table between them and finally took his seat in the opposing chair.
Aelin looked down at the present and then back at Rowan, who was looking at her with wide green eyes.
“What’s this?” Aelin asked, poking the paper gently with her finger, and Rowan rolled his eyes.
“It’s a present.”
Aelin nodded, her stomach swirling wildly. “I can see that.”
She stared at the present nervously, as if it would explode if she opened it, and she could hear Rowan start to huff, annoyed at her reticence.
“For me?” she asked, wondering if maybe it was for Aunt Maeve and he just wanted to ask her if she’d liked how he’d wrapped it. Which, for the record, she did. It was beautifully wrapped, the ribbon pulled into a perfect bow, criss-crossing around the gift elegantly.
“Of course it is,” Rowan huffed again, and she could practically see him crossing his arms, fed up with her questioning, even though her eyes were still trained on the present between them.
“Rowan.” She paused and finally looked up. His wide eyes had narrowed, and there was a slight pout on his lips. “I didn’t get you anything,” she said. That was their rule. They didn’t exchange presents on holidays or birthdays. They’d decided early on in their friendship that it was too much pressure, and they didn’t need to get each other presents – they were content to share memories of spending those days together. They didn’t need things. That was their rule.
As if he finally realized what she was saying, Rowan started sputtering quickly. “It’s not a Christmas present!” he insisted. “It’s an opening night present. So, I haven’t broken any rules.” Aelin narrowed her eyes skeptically at his loophole.
“But now I feel bad that I don’t have anything for you,” she sighed.
Rowan rolled his eyes, clearly exasperated with her. “Ace, I watched you audition for this role for the last two years, and you finally got it. And you worked really hard, and it showed. That’s why I got it for you, okay? That’s it,” he said.
“But—” Aelin started to protest, but Rowan wasn’t having any of it.
“Ace,” he whined. “Just open the damn present.”
“Fine,” she snapped, though inside her heart was beating wildly with anticipation. She untied the bow with deft fingers, and quickly retied it in her still curled hair, making the edges of Rowan’s mouth curl upwards as she tied the bow at the top of her head.
She giggled at his expression. “Do I look stupid?” she asked. “I forgot to take off my stage makeup.”
“You look great,” Rowan assured her, his eyes darting back down to the wrapped box, and Aelin smiled, satisfied with his answer, before leaning down and carefully opening the small box.
She pushed the paper aside and lifted the lid of the white box inside, gasping at the sparkling snowflake hanging from a chain inside.
“Oh,” she breathed softly, hanging the necklace off her finger, watching it shine glittering patterns across the glass as the soft light of the roof refracted off of it. “This is… really pretty,” she said, her voice quiet as she watched the delicate pendant sway gently mid-air. Really pretty was an understatement. It was beautiful, spectacular, resplendent, and a whole slew of other vocabulary words that were racing through Aelin’s brain.
She looked past the necklace to her best friend, who watched her with a hawk-like intensity.
“I tried to look for a nutcracker necklace,” he said quickly, “But they were all so ugly. None of them looked like you,” he explained. “And I knew there were snowflakes in the ballet, but I didn’t know if you danced with them or not,” he raced out. “And now I know you don’t, but it can still remind you of tonight, right?”
His cheeks were flushed from his rushed explanation, and she smiled and nodded shyly at her friend, who was usually the quiet one between them. But Aelin didn’t even have the words. It was perfect.
“Will you help me put it on?” she asked, chewing on her bottom lip nervously as she waited for him to reply.
He didn’t respond, and she held her breath as he took the chain from her finger and started to unclasp it. Aelin sat up as straight as she could, shoulders back and neck stretched as she lifted her heavy sprayed curls off her back.
Her breath stuttered as she saw the snowflake come down in front of her face, resting just above the neckline of her sweater, and she suppressed a shiver as she felt Rowan’s warm fingers brush against her skin as he reclasped the necklace. Oh my gods. She’d never felt so warm and cold all at the same time. She bit her lip to keep from grinning to widely and giving herself away, as she was sure he could see her reflection in the window in front of them.
“Done,” he said, and Aelin’s heart took off racing as he sat back down and smiled at her.
“Now I look perfect,” she said, finally freeing her bottom lip and smiling back. They sat there smiling at each other, two mirror images of contentedness until a plate of brownies was placed between them.
Startled, Aelin looked back up at Aunt Maeve, who was grinning widely herself as she glanced between the two friends. Aelin was sure she was about to say something horribly embarrassing about how pink her cheeks were or how wide her smile was, but instead Maeve leaned down and kissed the top of Rowan’s head, causing his own face to redden.
“I hope you’re hungry,” she said, pointing to the delicious smelling brownies.
“Starving,” Aelin said, already reaching for the biggest piece. She shoved the baked good into her face, only slowing her chewing when she realized Rowan hadn’t eaten one yet. “What?” she asked between crumb-filled bites.
“You really like it?” he asked, his eyes flickering down to the sparkling necklace.
She put her hand over it. “I love it,” she said emphatically, still chewing. “But don’t expect I’m going to start buying you presents just because you got me one,” she said, furrowing her brow. “Christmas is next week, and I have too many performances to try and go shopping before then.” She paused.
“Of course,” Rowan laughed, finally reaching for a brownie himself. “Besides, I don’t need a present,” he laughed, reaching over and tugging at the bow on the top of her head. “I have you.”
Aelin smiled and took another bite of her brownie. She’d never take this necklace off as long as she lived.
~*~
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helbramstrauma · 3 years
Text
So I made this Headcannon a while ago about a Fem! Ballerina Reader x Tsukishima Kei, and I decided to make a little one shot for it.
This is lightly proofread and was typed on my phone so apologies in advance :)
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The beaming lights come to a dim, along with your stage smile as the curtains come to a close, you turn around to face the rest of your team for a job well done. Tonight was the closing performance for Swan Lake- the spring show is now no more, as you get a week break from rehearsal before practice starts for the summer recital. However as you are backstage quickly touching up your makeup so you can meet the guest in the hall for greetings, your eyes quickly pass the gaze of familiar yellow orbs. You turn around quickly again, you didn’t think Tsukki would be able to make it as he usually has practice on Friday nights and he already came to the Wednesday show. Never the less you were ecstatic to see him, you were smiling ear to ear whilst he was sporting his signature smirk.
“You did better than Wednesday,” Tsukishima remarks attempting to reach down and pick you up, but the tutu surrounding you gets in his way. “Can you take this off now I can’t reach you”. You let out a little snicker before shaking your head, “It wouldn’t be much of a gathering by the stage door if the black swan doesn’t show up”. You say, before padding away the sweat on your face that the stage lighting caused. “Besides you shouldn’t even be back here, go wait outside like everybody else”.
He faints being hurt before a devilish and teasing look paints his face once again before saying, “well if I wasn’t allowed back here why do I have the keys” he says holding up a pair of keys with a small rabbit keychain he gave you when he went away for a training camp. You know full well those are the keys that went missing causing you to use your friend’s set. He even helped you look for them, he can be too sly sometimes.
“You’re so mean to me,” you say before going up en pointe to grab your stolen keys and giving him a quick peck on his cheek before you tuck them into your leotard sandwiching it between the tutu and your tights.
He lets out a chuckle, “I hope you didn’t expect me to be nice before we started to date”. You poke your tongue out quickly before turning around and putting on an exaggerated smile before opening the door to the lobby.
The crowd is dense, you certainly wouldn’t want to be lost in it, plus it is moving slowly. However once people start noticing Odile’s arrival the crowd starts its way towards you, you are used to this by now but this is the first show you headlined. This is the first show where you were on the playbill and advertisement, this is the first time you were the star. Of course, it is an honor but it is quite overwhelming, the first night you had to go back backstage because you had a panic attack- but it got better throughout the week.
The crowd is now forming a makeshift line, as you greet the people and thank them for coming. Signing a few programs and taking a couple pictures. However, by far the best people you got to greet are your students, once you reach a certain level at the school you get to co-teach younger classes, and nothing can beat the feeling of seeing them look up to you. Once the lobby is almost empty besides a few lingering guests and family’s waiting for their child to wrap up, you decide to head backstage to get out of costume.
As you are the star of the show you got your own dressing room, although it is extremely small it makes you feel very special. To be honest it is a converted storage closet but the star that sits on the door with your name on it still gives you butterflies. Once you open the door you see Tsukki slumped over attempting to stand under the bar holding your garment bag, shoe bag, and purse. It is honestly a sight to see. Before sitting down, you shimmy out of your skirt and throw it at Kei so he can hang it in the garment bag. You hop into your director's chair that was a gag gift from Tsukishima and begin to dab miracle water on a makeup wipe before swiping away the stage makeup that is weighing down on you. Frankly, you have never been so excited to do a facemask, while you are removing your makeup you feel Tsukishima take the bun maker out of your head along with an ungodly amount of bobby pins. You hand him a damp brush while you start to work on removing some of your body crystals and the shimmer spray they envelopes you in.
Once you are cleaned up as well as you can with baby wipes you throw your still slightly stiff hair into a low loose ponytail. Then you throw on a plum hoodie with a holographic star detail that is definitely not tsukki’s you are able to take off your leotard without flashing your boyfriend.
“you could have asked me to leave”
“We both know you would have teased me about it” you retort
He then pulls you closer pressing your back against his chest before placing a kiss on the top of your head, “well you clearly don’t know me, because I would have teased you either way.”
You throw on some leggings after removing your tights before you make your way out of the performance hall and into the local 24-hour western imitation diner. The owners there know you guys now out of the sheer amount of times you’ve been there. It started as a joke since Tsukishima forgot a bouquet at your first performance, but you quickly decided you like it so much better than some flowers that were going to die anyway. Because one thing is certain you are always starved after performances. As you guys eat your regular orders from the dinner you can’t help but think you wouldn’t want it any other way
Hope you enjoyed the little one shot, this is the first thing I've written in a while so I'm a little rusty.
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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years
Text
A Death Eater and a Dancer
Ballerina!Reader X Draco
Summary: Request: @peachesandpink​ Ooooh draco malfoy with a professional ballerina or a figure/ice skater who gets pretty famous in the Wizarding world after the war?
A/N: Okay, so I am in no way a professional dancer (hi, writer here) but! I do know the basics of theatre (hello, theatre kid here) so, please enjoy this lovely Phantom of the Opera esque one shot of a very headstrong witch and a very distant trying Malfoy. Also! Say hello to a new form of magic user and some lore! It was fun to experiment with!! Let me know what you think!! Love you guys bunches!!
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Five years wandless. That’s what Draco had to endure. He supposed it was better than Azkaban, but without a wand, it was almost as if he had no magic at all. He was never good at wandless magic, and he doubted that there was anyone who was willing to get near him to teach him.
That was four years ago.
Now, he had worked his way up in the performance industry, using his inheritance to fund the arts as a patron—something he had always enjoyed as a child. Maybe it was an unhealthy coping mechanism, clinging to something that made him feel safe and innocent again, but there wasn’t much of another choice that he had. Wandless and magicless, he was trying to keep his head above the water.
And there was something enchanting about his most recent investment: the Saltota. A group of wandless magic users that harnessed magic through dance. Their performances were renowned and revered. Draco remembered their routines from when he was a child as well, always attending the holiday recitals with his parents. Their elegance and majesty always struck a chord in his heart.
____________________________
“Did you hear!?” Rehearsal for tonight’s show had just ended and Meg was all but bursting with excitement. “Draco Malfoy has just invested in our Saltota Faction!”
I looked up from my bag, shock on my face.
“Malfoy?” A small smile lingered as I remembered a boy from my first year in Hogwarts, before I had transferred to a Parisian school to pursue the path of the Saltota like my mother before me.
“Only the most eligible bachelor in the Wizarding and Muggle world,” Meg sighed, leaning against the lockers. I rolled my eyes at her antics.
I knew the stories, and the papers, and the tabloids, and the rumors, but despite it all whenever I thought about Draco, I still saw the Slytherin protegee who I shared my classes and House with. Not the Ex-Death Eater who was apparently the most eligible bachelor in the Wizarding World.
“Do you think he’ll remember you?” Meg asked eagerly.
“It’s been years Meg,” I scoffed. “He probably doesn’t even remember my name,” It was a sobering thought. “He probably wouldn’t care even if he did.”
“He might care,” She pointed out.
“And you think what? I’m just going to go up to him, say ‘hey, remember me? We went to school for one year together and now you’re the most datable bloke in the world and I’m a dancer, want to go out with me and maybe convince me to give up my life’s work for love?’” I gave her a flat look.
“You sell yourself short, Y/n,” Meg sighed. “You know that you’re the best of this Faction. If he’s the most eligible bachelor, you’re the most sought bachelorette. And who said you would have to give up dance?”
“Men like Malfoy are all the same,” I scoffed. “All they care about is their own careers and can’t bear the thought of their lady outshining them, so I think I’ll pass.”
“I think you’re wrong,” Meg muttered, lacing up her pointe shoes.
I rolled my eyes again and shook my head. There were more important things to worry about. Like the recital tonight. Not some ridiculous fantasy of love. Fairytales didn’t exist and they didn’t happen in the real world. They were stories to dance to, that was it. Tonight, was no different as the production of The Tale of The Three Brothers was being held.
An air of stress and excitement rested on my shoulders as I had the role of representing Death throughout the show. It was considered one of the hardest characters to perfect in Saltota Magic. But it didn’t matter much when the music began to play. Then I could get lost in it and the stress and pressure faded around me as I fell into the melody. It was the only reason that I stayed with dancing through the years. I never cared about the status or the money or the schools. Instead, the melody and the way that for once my body knew what to do, lending itself completely to magic.
It was opening night and anxiety and adrenaline was coursing through my veins as I did the final touches on my hair and makeup, making sure that everything was in its correct place. Magic sparked along my skin as I went through a few final stretches and warm-ups.
The curtain parted like red waves, and the bright lights hit me as the audience applauded. With one deep breath, the music began, and I was Death, and this was my story.
___________________________
Draco had always loved the theater and he had always loved the production of the Three Brothers. Sitting alone in his reserved theater box, he was quickly enamored by the one who portrayed Death. The name on the playbill struck him familiar... but he couldn’t quite place the name.
With careful eyes, he watched you throughout the performance, enraptured by how the magic flowed from your fingertips, your skin. How it radiated in the very air around you, bending to your will as you flitted across the stage with grace and poise that had his heart stammering.
Asking around after the performance, he learned a lot about you. The Governess of this Saltota Faction—a strict woman who without a second glance could be mistaken for McGonagall— spoke highly of you. Though there was a teasing note in her tone as she suggested perhaps, he remembered you from the single year of schooling you shared with another before you attended her school in Paris. It left him wondering if she was kin to McGonagall after all.
Yet, a smile brushed his lips. That’s why your name stuck his memory. You had been a Slytherin with him in first year. Draco tended not to dwell on his memories of Hogwarts, but the small sliver of first year was not the most unbearable thing to reminisce upon.
“May I remind you, Mr. Malfoy, that my apprentices are not to be ogled at. Miss Y/n does not have time for... distractions.”
“Of course,” Draco remained composed. “I was merely curious,” Your Governess didn’t seem convinced.
Even still, Draco had flowers sent to your dressing room, with only his name attached to the bouquet—that was slightly ostentatious. He wondered if you remembered him. Then he wondered if you wanted to. The thought dampened his mood as his past came to haunt his mind, dragging him back down until his face was barely above the murky water that threatened to drag him under every waking moment.
______________________________
“I told you!” Meg screeched, taking the flowers from my hands. “I told you that he would remember you! Oh, my stars!” She acted as if Draco had sent her the flowers and not me.
My fingers brushed over the parchment that held his name. Sighing, I vanished it.
“Meg, I told you. I don’t have time for this! Some silly romance...” I huffed and spelled away my makeup with a flutter of my fingers.
Though the rest of my Faction was crowded around me, hemming and hawing at the note and the flowers and the idea of any one of us being courted by Draco Malfoy, my thoughts were far from their senseless gossip. A dark part of my mind toyed with the thought that he was doing it to use me. It was no secret that Malfoy was sentenced to be wandless and thus created his interest with the Arts. The way of the Saltota offered an alternative to that. I had a wand, yes. But it was rarely used anymore.
I didn’t need it to use magic. It was the true way of the Saltota. To offer and use my body as a vessel for the magic that existed all around. It was why the Saltota Ultas were so revered. They were one with magic, with nothing holding them back at all. And nothing, for me, meant no Draco Malfoy coming in to become something.
It didn’t stop the flowers, however. After a while, I expected them. And it was a waste to throw them away or watch them die. So maybe I used a simple Curator Spell and kept them alive in my flat. And maybe against my better judgement I let Meg convince me to meet him one night after the last performance of the season.
“Malfoy?” I called softly, making my way into the Opera House foyer, brushing by other suitors.
He turned, and I was caught at an impasse. He was strikingly beautiful, his features sharp and defined. Though they were reminiscent of his father, there was still the softness there of his mother... and something that was completely his own in the mystery of his grey eyes.
“Miss Y/n,” He dipped his head politely. “May I say you danced beautifully tonight, as always,”
“Thank you,” My voice was barely audible above the noise of the excitement around us, but it didn’t hide the slight blush on my cheeks.
Everything that I had planned to say to him, every accusation, and every question fell from my lips as we studied each other in some sort of silent standoff.
“Would you care to go somewhere quieter?” An amused smirk reached his lips as his eyes darted to the bustle around us. “Or... perhaps not. I wouldn’t want to be a distraction,” There was a malice note on his last worn as his eyes tightened, the smile disappearing.
“I suppose I do owe you for all of the flowers,” A smile toyed at my lips. “I believe I can afford an outing. With an old classmate,” I drawled the word.
“As you wish,” He offered his arm, and I took it.
We ended up at a small café in the quiet night of Paris, far from the thrill of the Opera House. Draco was nothing, if not a gentleman. And maybe I could see why he was considered the most suitable bachelor in the Wizarding World. If I wasn’t careful my nothing might be something. I had left the hope of love and romance a long time ago. I had to.
“How long did it take you to remember me?” He asked softly, drawing me from my thoughts.
“I could ask the same question,” Leaning my elbows on the table and resting my chin on my hands, I raised an eyebrow at him. “I never forgot you, Draco,” The words were soft.
“You didn’t?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “I would think since... and well,”
I gnawed on my lip, my thoughts following his. The war. And the Dark Lord. It was the one thing that had me so close to the edge of giving up being a Saltota. We weren’t allowed to interfere with the war at all. It wasn’t our place; I had been told time and time again.
“One hardly can ignore the most eligible bloke in the Wizarding World,” I teased softly. “Especially when he sends you the most ridiculous flowers every night. I must say, you have the other girls in my Faction enamored and jealous.”
The smile I had been trying for quirked on his thin lips.
“And what of you? What do you think?” Draco raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “I’ve never had a suitor that I entertained before, and I’m not quite sure with you either, no offense,”
“Your Governess mentioned something about that.” He leaned back in his chair, a calm expression on his face that I could see right through— he was defensive.
I gave a solemn nod. A silence lingered between us for a moment. I broke it.
“So, you’re obviously invested into the Arts, tell me what have you seen? Any of the Muggle greats?”
“Muggle?” He almost laughed. “Why would I go to see a muggle performance?” 
I gaped at him.
“Are you kidding me?” I was baffled. “What do mean you haven’t seen any of them? Theatre is theatre, Draco.”
“But it’s muggle,”
I rolled my eyes. “You know nothing, do you?” It was a soft accusation. “The Saltota use dance as a way to harness magic, you know that much I assume. But our traditions are not just for magic users. There are those born magicless who still pursue the art of our dance. It is not about who can use magic, but those willing to keep the tradition alive.”
“You mean to tell me that Muggles use Saltota dances?” He seemed almost enraged.
Sighing, I began again. “I recognize that it might be hard for you to understand, but the way I learned magic was not just how to use it, but to also appreciate all it has given. The secrets we carry are not ours to keep, rather for magic to choose.”
“You act like magic is a sentient being,”
“Well, isn’t it?” I smiled softly. “Tell me, when you first got your wand, you felt it. The hum that sparked on your fingertips. Or, forgive me, the burn of the mark on your arm. Magic is as much alive as you and I are,”
His grey eyes narrowed, his face falling into a scrutinizing gaze. I could see the flecks of anger in his eyes and the conflict that resided behind. It was another silent standoff, but I wasn’t backing down. Magic was sacred and not for man—not even the Draco Malfoy—to control.
“I see,” He was all but seething before me. “You obviously know more than I ever possibly could,” The words were sharp and biting, his fists clenched.
“Draco,” My stubborn flare faltered under his harsh tone. “I... I apologize, I never meant to imply—”
“I think your intentions were quite clear,” He hissed.
“It was still rude of me to...” My eyes dropped to the table as I took a sharp breath in. “Thank you for the tea. And the flowers. Goodnight,”
Wordlessly I stood and left. One glance back and my eyes met grey storms of emotions.
“I don’t have time for distractions,” I whispered to myself, hurrying down the lane. “...and I do not fancy Draco Malfoy.”
Only one of them was truth. 
___________________________
Draco watched you leave, regretting letting his pride get in the way of speaking to you like a rational human being. What did you know of his past anyways? You would never understand the weight on his shoulders of the Dark Mark that resided on his arm, or his dark past that shadowed him every waking moment. All of this because he couldn’t entertain the idea that muggles tread on your art form.
What did muggles know of magic anyway? They were ignorant.
But you had insisted otherwise. The theatre. Muggle theatre. Though his love for the Arts ran deep, he never considered looking into its muggle counterpart. A consequence of his parents, he supposed.
Staring at the ceiling late that night, you weaved into all of Draco’s thoughts, with or without permission. Draco groaned and dismayed that he was actually doing what he set out for. It took a few tries but eventually a familiar voice answered the other end of the line.
“Minister of Magic, Granger speaking,” 
“Hermione, I need a favor,”
As soon as Hermione graciously filled him in on Muggle theatre, Draco easily secured two tickets to the next performance occurring at an Opera House not unlike of his own patronage. Now he only hoped that you would still talk to him.
“Miss Y/l/n?”
Your eyes flash to his as you stand, the other girls from your Faction all observing you as he pulled you away from your practice.
“Malfoy,” You were cautious and reserved. “Is something the matter? Something that you find unsatisfactory with my dancers?” Your face remained collected, but there was a mischievous look in your eyes.
You were toying with him. Testing him. He shook his head solemnly and ushered you to a foyer away from the rest of your Faction. You eyed him, questioning.
“On the contrary,” He played along with a smile that would have any other girl—or bloke— swooning after him, but not you. The same curious look remained upon your face. “I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to the theatre this evening. The Palais Garnier is hosting The Phantom of the Opera and I thought maybe you would care to join me?”
Shock flitted across your features as your collected demeanor fell flat. Your eyes narrowed at him as you began to say something but paused in the midst. Regaining your composure, you began again.
“This wouldn’t happen to be a date, now would it Mr. Malfoy?” A smirk rose on your lips.
“Please, Mr. Malfoy is my father,” Draco stressed, not enjoying the formality on your lips. “And this is simply an outing between old classmates,” He chose your words from the night that seemed lifetimes away.
“I see,” You tilted your chin back slightly, “I’d be honored to accompany you, Malfoy,” You dipped into a graceful curtsy.
That night he arrived at the studio and chauffeured you to the Muggle Opera House. You were simply stunning in your muggle attire, not doubt looking as if you were an aristocrat in their society as well. There was an air of prowess about you as you held yourself high beside him.
Though it was difficult for him to be among so many muggles, you had no issue with it. And perhaps, if he wanted to admit it to himself these particular muggles weren’t awful and barbaric. It seemed as if even a few recognized you, asking for photos or a signature. You gave them gracefully, not fretting about the intrusion on privacy.
In his private box, near and above the stage, you two settled. There was excitement in your features as he could feel the buzz of magic dance across your skin. As the curtains raised and the orchestra started it’s overture, the smile on your face grew. He nudged your shoulder gently, nodding to your hands, where they had begun to summon a lighting charm he assumed. Your face went slightly pink as you pressed your hands firmly into your lap, quite sheepish.
He found it endearing, to a point, that theatre, even if it wasn’t your own, could elicit this response from you. Then, he understood why you were so elated by the show before you. It captured his attention, and though it held no inkling of true magic, it was far from being magicless. It was at the intermission that he found himself wanting the show to continue without pause.
“I believe I owe you an apology,” Draco murmured softly as he led you to the foyer where cocktails and hors d'oeuvres were served. “You were absolutely right,”
“Is that so?” You sipped on a tall glass of champagne, the rouge of your lips staining the crystal glass, a mischievous smile on your lips.
“You know, not everyone can get me to admit that I was wrong,” Draco drawled.
“Is that supposed to make me feel special?” Your teasing tone had strengthened. “That the great Draco Malfoy has admitted to me that he was wrong,”
“It should,”
A laugh fell from your lips, a beautiful sound.
The play ended all too quickly, and soon he was standing beside you, outside your flat building in the upper part of town.
“Thank you for tonight,” You smiled softly. “I had a wonderful time,” 
________________________________
I leaned against my closed and locked flat door, not able to rid my face of the smile that resided there. It was almost too easy to be with Draco and the company he offered. A perfect mix of elegance and mischief. Then came the sobering thought:
“I do not fancy Draco Malfoy,” I reminded myself. 
But don’t you? My psyche whispered back.
I didn’t want to answer her.
Rising with the sun, not much planned for the day now that it was my off season—meaning I had at least my early mornings to myself—I started a pot of tea and picked up the Daily Prophet that was nearly destroyed by my anger as I read the front page headline:
Ex-Death Eater Caught with Esteemed Saltota Dancer in The Muggle Theater: Moving on or Malicious Motive?
There was a photo of Draco and I together in the Opera House, last night, looking quite cozy with one another, laughing. The picture moved, as I expected it too, and I almost forget why I was so upset, because the photo held the golden feeling from last night as I gazed upon it. I didn’t linger long however because there was an incoming call from the front desk—Draco Malfoy was requesting to come up.
Quickly throwing on a house coat, I opened the door, seeing a very anxious looking Draco at my doorstep.
“Good morning,” I tested, letting him in.
“I am so sorry, you have to believe me,” He paced the floor, not giving me a second glance.
“Uh, alright,” I closed the door, locking it. “Sorry for what exactly?”
“The article. I’m having my people take care of it. I knew this was—” He didn’t finish the thought.
“Take care of it?” I asked with a careful step towards him.
“The photos. The newspapers.” He snapped as if it were obvious.
“No, I get that, but why?” My hand reached out, resting on his shoulder. He stiffened and jerked out of my grasp.
“Why?” Draco hissed. “Because you shouldn’t be with me! Because I could have just ruined your entire career! This was stupid and selfish and reckless of me,”
“Draco,” My eyebrows furrowed as I took another step toward him and placed my hand on his shoulder again. He didn’t shrug me off this time. “Are you ashamed of me? Of last night?” It was the one thought on my mind.
“No,” His answer came quickly. “No, of course not. We went out. We enjoyed each other’s company. It was a fine night,”
“Then why are you so upset?” My eyes met his unsteady grey ones. “Draco, it’s sweet that you’re worried about me. But I can handle some press. Drama tabloids and what not. It comes with the job,” I paused a moment, “And if it were to be anyone, I’m glad it was you,”
He went quiet, his hands balling into fists at his side. “Did you read the article?” His tone iced his words.
“Not yet, no. You called up before I had the chance,” Another moment, another thought. “And I really couldn’t care less about that it says. It’s gossip. And I won’t apologize or worry myself over a wonderful night spent with a friend,”
“Friend?”
“Well, I mean, unless you’d like to strictly stay as old classmates,” It was a teasing tone that seemed to alleviate some of his tension.
“No, I quite like friends,” There was a smile on his face for the first time that morning.
Draco stayed in my flat for a few hours, having breakfast and tea with me. Overlooking the city on my balcony it was almost too easy to be with him and that golden feeling was back in my chest. We talked about nothing and everything, avoiding heavier topics that didn’t seem to fit in with the rising sun.
And despite my dismissal of the gossip column in the paper, Draco and I both agreed that maybe it would be better if we laid low for a while, keeping out of the public eye. Which meant our morning teas in my flat became a sort of normal as we avoided the busy streets below. He would then leave, off to meetings and who knows what else as I kept up my dancing regime with my Faction.
There was something to be said of my Faction. Since the first article and the few that followed, they all seemed to eye me warily, knowing the contents that I didn’t bother myself with. Meg was begging me for details, but I simply shook my head, informed her and the rest of my dancers that we were merely friends, colleagues. None of what the papers said was true.
“But he is, was a Death Eater,” Kelsey insisted one night after practice. “Aren’t you the least bit worried that he might hurt you? Or try to use you? He is wandless after all. And I hear he’s pretty cozy with you,”
“I wasn’t aware that it was my secret to keep,” My eyes narrowed. “You know as well as I, that magic is not ours to withhold from those who ask,”
“But he’s using you!”
“And so, what if he is!” I shouted. “That would not change who I am nor what I strive for! Now I am to hear none of this talk any longer! It is not our place to withhold the magic of the stars and it is certainly not your place to tell me what to do with my life!”
All of the girls were staring at me as I breathed deeply, storming out of the studio and into the crisp air of the night. There was a certain edge to this night, however, and I could feel it as the Dark Magic grazed my skin. My eyes darted around the well-lit street and to a darkened alley: the source of my unease. A dementor. In the city.
“Can’t I have just one night!?” I huffed, rushing towards the alley, set to alleviate the Dark Magic and restore balance to the energy and magic around me.
Then my heart dropped.
The dementor had a target. Wandless and defenseless, Draco back against the alley wall, looking terrified and hopeless. Ditching my bag, I closed my eyes and focused on the Light Magic passing through my limbs as I threw my body into precise fouettés, feeling an equilibrium restore around me. Settling into first position, I opened my eyes to see that Draco’s had closed.
Dropping to his side, my shaking hands fluttered over his chest, brushing his hair from his face.
“Draco!? Draco can you hear me!?” Cradling his face, a new sort of anxiety grew in my chest. “Draco, please, please wake up.”
As if he heard me, his grey eyes opened barely, a sad cough escaping his lips. I aided him in sitting up as he continued to hack and cough, red spots splashing against the back of his hand.
“Okay, we need to get you to St. Mungo’s,” I decided, standing myself before helping him up. 
“I’m fine,” He rasped, waving me off.
“You’re coughing up blood, Draco,” My voice was surprisingly calm for the current conversation. “I’m taking you to a Healer,”
“No,” He protested, stumbling. “P-people will talk,”
“Let them!” I snapped, still frustrated from my spat with Kelsey. “I’m not going to let you die because some reporter might snap a stupid photo!” Slinging his arm over my shoulder, I calmed enough to Apparate with him into the lobby of the hospital, where Draco collapsed.
Healers rushed in around me, taking Draco off of my hands. They asked too many questions and I barely got out the words “dementor,” and “blood.” Another started to pull me in the opposite direction of him, but I refused.
“Ma’am only family is allowed back with him,” The receptionist stammered under my fierce glare.
“Hell with that! I am his family! Now let me back with him!”
The small girl squeaked and let me go as I rushed off after the Healers that carried Draco up to the fourth floor. The anxiety in my chest grew as this was a graver situation that I originally thought if he was being taken to the fourth floor.
“Ma’am?” An adjacent Healer caught my attention. “Can you please tell me the events of what happened?”
“He got attacked by a bloody dementor! What is with you people?! I thought your government was supposed to control those things!?”
“Uh, y-yes ma’am,” The Healer stammered. “But what happened to the dementor? Was a spell cast?”
“Oh, you wizards!” I cursed.
“Ma’am I understand that you’re upset, but please—”
“No, you listen here,” I grabbed the Healer’s robes and drew him close, snarling in his face. “A wandless, defenseless wizard under your government was just attacked by a dementor, who could have killed him, and you’re asking me about what spell I used? Me!? Do you know who I am!?”
“Miss Y/l/n,” A faintly known voice called from behind me. “If you’d please let go of Mr. Thomas,”
I released my hold on the Healer and turned, face to face with the Minister of Magic herself.
“You,” I spat. “You know, we really do make an effort to let you run magic the way you wish but this,” I gestured aggressively towards the room where Draco was being treated. “This draws a line Granger,”
“I understand that,” Deep brown eyes held caution. “And the dementor was not one under my jurisdiction,”
The air sparked around me, charged with dangerous magic.
“You mean to tell me that you have left him wandless, and alone, with Voldemort’s followers still out there!? Are you absolutely daft!?”
Granger held her composure as I spat the words at her. The Healer emerging from Draco’s room broke our tension as my anger morphed into fear and worry at the Healer’s verdict.
“He will be fine. We managed to assuage the Dark Magic in his lungs, and he’ll be clear for release tomorrow morning,” The Healer’s eyes flickered between Granger and I, no doubt aware of the standoff occurring between us. “He is asking for you Miss Y/n,”
I nodded and took a deep breath, not giving the Minister a second glance as I stormed into Draco’s room. His eyes were barely opened as a smile played at his lips.
“My stars, Draco,” I collapsed in the seat beside his hospital bed. “What were you thinking!?”
“I’m fine, thanks,” His teasing manor left a smile on my face as his hand covered my shaking ones that gripped the edge of the cot.
“What were you even doing out alone like that?” I asked weakly. “You scared me to death, Draco,”
“I... I wanted to come and see you. I thought maybe tonight was a good night to... stop laying low,” His cheeks tinged red as he stammered the confession.
A hopeless chuckle left my lips as I rested my forehead on our intertwined hands. 
“And did you really just call Hermione, the Minister of Magic, daft?”
“Yes?” I looked up meekly. “You could have died, Draco,”
“But I didn’t,”
“Oh, because that makes me feel so much better,” I scoffed.
“How... how did you even do that? I’ve never seen anyone actually kill a dementor before,” His voice held melancholy and regret.
“I didn’t kill it,” I defended. “Not really...” I paused, pursing my lips, debating how much I wanted to go into what I had done, and how conscious Draco would be to understand any of it. He waited expectantly. “I balanced the energy. Dementors consist of heavy Dark Magic, so by channeling pure Light Magic, an equilibrium is found. No more dementor,”
When he didn’t offer a response, my gaze followed up to his face. His eyes had closed again and steady breaths exhales from his parted lips. I found myself smiling and reaching out to brush the hair hanging in his face.
“You care for him,”
I jumped up, spinning, ready for a fight.
“It’s alright, I’m not going to hurt you,” Granger smiled. “It’s just nice to see that he has someone looking out for him,”
“Why would you care?” I asked softly, my fingers brushing against his hand.
“You know, when I became Minister, I offered to end his wandless sentence. But he refused. He wouldn’t tell me the reason.”
A smile played at my lips as a sigh soon escaped them.
“He has a habit of that,” My words were small and soft. “Always thinks the worst of himself... like he deserves all of the awful things that happen to him. No doubt he thinks he deserves this dementor attack,” My eyes found Granger’s again. “I’m sorry, for what I said. I...”
“You were scared. I understand that. No hard feelings,” She offered her hand. “Hermione Granger,”
“Y/n,” I shook her hand.
______________________________
Draco opened his eyes again, feeling like he was submerged under water, gasping for air. Even with his eyes open, there was a weight on him. Blinking to clear the fuzziness from his sight he realized that there actually was a weight on him.
Your hands were intertwined with his, as your head was tipped back. Soft snores left your lips as you slept in the chair beside his bed. He would have liked to be alone in the room with you, but instead, his eyes fell upon an exhausted Hermione.
“Didn’t know that a dementor attack warranted a visit from the Minister herself,” He mused softly, not to wake you.
“You act like I don’t feel awful about this,” She muttered, rubbing her face. “And I’m not here as the Minister, not anymore at least. I’m here as a friend,”
“Draco Malfoy doesn’t have friends,” His tone was flat.
“You seem to have at least one,” Hermione smirked nodding to you. “You should have seen her; she was absolutely livid. Reminded me a bit of you when you lose your temper actually. Terrified the poor receptionist and a few Healers,”
Draco chuckled at the thought, before his laugh turned into a coughing fit, drawing you from your slumber. Immediately you were on your feet, tensed and ready for a fight.
“I’ll just leave you two alone,” Hermione smiled at him kindly. “And make sure the papers have the right story,”
You both groaned at that thought as you slumped back into the chair, rubbing your sore neck. 
“Why can’t they just leave us alone?” You whined, a pout forming at your lips.
“It’s a part of the job,” Draco mused, joking lightly.
“This... this isn’t a part of the job,” You muttered. “Press, dating rumors, maybe something scandalous, but not this. This danger...” You shook your head, scrubbing your eyes. “When had it ever come to this?”
“It always comes to this,” Draco’s voice was tight. “It always has. Sometimes I wonder when enough will be enough...”
“Don’t... don’t talk like that,” You grimaced, taking his hand into yours, pressing it to your lips, a warm feeling that Draco marveled at. “You aren’t... you don’t deserve this. No one deserves this,”
“Y/n—”
“No,” You cut him off defiantly. “Don’t give me your Death Eater bullshit. I won’t hear it. You don’t want to believe in yourself? That you might be good? That you are good? Fine. But it won’t stop me.”
Draco didn’t know how to respond to your words. They contrasted everything inside of him. He wasn’t good. He could never be good. He could never be redeemed. Wasn’t that the point of him trying so hard? Because he knew he could never reach a pure status again. His name would never be cleared and now he was starting to drag you down with him.
“Shouldn’t you be at rehearsal?” The words fell from his lips with an air of melancholy.
Your face twisted into confusion, then shock, then anger. You stood abruptly, his hand falling back to his side.
“Do you even listen to me when I talk to you!?” You huffed, storming out of the small room. He thought he saw tears in your eyes.
About an hour later he was released from the hospital and told to stay home and take it easy for the next few days and to come straight back if something went wrong. Brushing off the worried nurses, be walked down the street, finally finding solace in his own flat. His own space.
What he couldn’t escape however was the sharpness and hurt behind your words nor the headlines that littered the papers the next day despite Hermione’s promise to sort them out.
Dementor attacks Ex-Death Eater: Ministry Slip-Up or Rising Fear?
Saltota Dancer Rescues Ex-Death Eater from His Earned Fate
Enraged Saltota Defends Ex-Death Eater: Love or Lunacy?
His eyes paused on that last headline. It didn’t seem as harsh as the rest, in fact, as he skimmed the article, it had a rather positive undertone:
“The Saltota, known for their captivating dance and bizarre magic nature, have never before interfered with the affairs of the Wizards under the Ministry of Magic. Staying out of the war against the Dark Lord, many Wizards believed the Saltota to have sympathies for The Dark Lord, yet a recent incident suggests differently. Y/n Y/l/n, a Saltota Maxima, was seen to have killed a dementor in favor of rescuing Ex-Death Eater, Draco Malfoy. Though her methods of killing the dementor have not been released, it is known that Y/l/n transported Malfoy to St. Mungo’s where she vividly demanded that he be taken care of. When speaking to the receptionist on shift at the time, they reveal that ‘She was terrifying. You could feel the magic like an aura around her as she fought for Malfoy... If she hadn’t been there, speaking on his behalf, I don’t believe that our Healers would have given Malfoy the attention he needed before his injuries became fatal.’ It is known that these two were caught in a Muggle Theatre looking quite cozy with another not a few months ago. It seems their relationship hasn’t stopped there. Is this Saltota Malfoy’s new lover? Or perhaps something more? More on the event on page 37.”
________________________________
“Lover,” I scoffed. “Yeah, sure.” 
I tossed the paper aside and stared up at the stars that spread out over the Parisian skyline before me. My limbs were still sore from rehearsal not hours before as Meg kept me company.
“You don’t want to talk to him?” She offered me a cup of tea. “I know we haven’t been the most supportive, but we’re worried about you Y/n,”
“There’s nothing to worry about.” I snapped then sighed. “I just don’t know what I did wrong...” Tears threatened to well in my eyes as I shoved my emotions down for what seemed like the hundredth time.
“You didn’t do anything wrong sweetheart,” Meg wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Maybe he’ll come around... maybe he won’t. It doesn’t change who you are,”
I smiled and wiped my eyes.
“Thanks Meg,” Looking down I stared at the warm tea. “Maybe it was my fault. I let him become a distraction...”
“No, you let him to your heart. I know you Y/n. I’ve grown up with you. I knew it would always take someone special to get through to you, and well, I think Draco has.” Her comforting words were bordering patronizing.
“I think he has too,”
“Make no mistake, you’re not the only one whose heart has been captured,”
This wasn’t the voice of my best friend, instead a friend... an old classmate... a lover... maybe something more...
“Draco,” I stood, almost spilling my tea. “I... how... how did you get in?”
“Your receptionist let me up and Meg passed me on her way out.” The explanation was simple enough.
“Oh,” My gaze dropped as I set down my mug. Taking a deep breath, I looked up at him. “What are you doing here Draco?” It was a bit harsher than I meant it to be.
“I came to apologize. And to thank you.” 
I raised an eyebrow at him.
“You did save my life. I believe I should thank you for that.” A smile played at his lips before it dropped. “And I’m also sorry. I thought I was protecting you from everything that I go through... but it seems that still, my own self-doubt and loathing got in the way of seeing what was in front of me... that you were in front of me. I know I let you down and I am so sorry for that... but you’ve brought me closer to who I really am, more than anyone else ever has...” He took a hesitant step closer. “There was no excuse for what I did to you, and I hope you can forgive me,”
I nodded, closing the space between us, my hand reaching for his. They were warm in mine, nothing like the cold feeling they held when Draco was unconscious at the hospital.
“And I hope that maybe... I could be a bit more than a distraction?” His hand parted from mine as his lithe fingers tilted my chin back, calm grey eyes greeting mine. “And maybe I could show the world what you really mean to me?”
His lips pressed against mine. Careful and hesitant. And until my free hand curled around the back of his neck and pulled him closer, did he lose his nervousness. And under the stars, Draco Malfoy became not just my something... but my everything.
And we became the most coveted and prestige couple in the entire Wizarding and Muggle world.
A Death Eater and a Dancer.
.
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